All Roads Lead to Rome
by windwraith
Summary: TIME 12AD. PLACE Imperial Prison. SITUATION Five boys whose origins span the known world find themselves sharing a cell. They are slaves of Rome awaiting new masters. What brought them to this? An authors attempt at crafting historically accurate fiction.
1. Lost and Found

Author's Notes:

Author's Notes:  
When I set myself the task of fitting the GW characters naturally in the frame work of ancient Rome (12 A.D) it seemed an original idea. Since then I have found there have been a few who attempted to do something similar, hopefully you will find my approach somewhat unique. If there is sufficient interest I hope to continue with this being the first story in the 'Slaves of Rome' series.

I like research and wanted to see how historically plausible I could get—without sacrificing any great degree of established character personality or background traits and storyline—In short it should not be boring.

Even so, each chapter will be followed by a notes section about the story and additional information on historical terms and facts I discovered during my research…and why I chose to set things as I have—you just might learn something. Feel free to ignore this section if you wish: reviews and criticism are always welcome.

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"All Roads Lead to Rome"

By Vigilanti

Section One: Lost and Found

The orphan boy had always prided himself on his ability to fall asleep anywhere. In an alley, doorway or tree it didn't matter when his body needed rest it dutifully shut down. The problem is that he often had difficulty remembering where he was when he woke. This was one such time.

The sound of people moving close around him penetrated his sleep fogged mind. Idly he registered the feel of heat on the side of his face. Then he smelled sulfur and the acrid tang of singed hair…his hair. He instinctively flinched and a sharp yelp of pain erupted from his lungs before his eyes were even open. Something hot had just burned the side of his neck.

"Don't struggle boy." A harsh voice growled.

The warning didn't register properly through the panic screaming in his mind. Vainly he tried to recall how and why he should wake to find an imperial guard looming over him holding a metal rod glowing uncomfortably close to his exposed flesh.

His body acted on its own, likely deciding that what ever the reason it could not be a good thing. The boy wormed and twisted fighting to get away only to find that another soldier had the entire length of his chestnut-colored braid wrapped several times around his fist. The only way he could win free was to rip his 'pride-and-joy' out by its roots—likely taking a significant part of his scalp with it.

The guard had not meant to burn the side of the boy's neck with the hot metal but members of the Imperial _Questionarius_ were not known for their sensitive natures. This time the brand connected his flesh with purpose. "I said don't move!" the man reiterated leaving a stinging brand on his shoulder blade.

The sizzle of burnt flesh rocked him flooding his world with red somehow he managed to get free of the burly guards with his braid intact though the flesh beneath would likely be sore for a while. He dove off the wooden platform he had been laying on and rolled. The pain as his neck and shoulder contacted with the cold stone floor sent stars dazzling behind his cobalt blue eyes. He took a few quick steps away from his captors only to find his movement curtailed rather violently. A rope in one on the guard's hands snapped taunt and iron bit harshly into his injured neck. The boy felt himself jerked harshly backward and then nothing.

His head throbbed horribly as he stumbled hazily back to consciousness. A burly legionnaire was positioned on each side of him dragging him by the wrists down a long corridor of damp stone. Torches hissed and sputtered at regular intervals and the smell of pitch stung his eyes. The braided boy tried to struggle but his efforts were wasted. He could barely get his legs under him let alone match the broad strides of his captors.

The boy's lips moved in silent petition to the gods. It seemed he spent half his life begging in the courtyard of the _Pantheon_ or wandering the shadowed alcoves dedicated to the many gods and goddesses of Rome. Most of the urchins he ran with looked to _Abeona_ the protector of homeless children or _Furina_ the goddess of thieves. But Duo had always felt a connection of sorts with _Orcus_ the god of death who punished perjurers. Honestly the boy had hoped to delay actually meeting the lord of the underworld as long as he could. At the moment his prospects looked rather bleak.

His friend Solo warned him he should have chosen a more forgiving patron, and he had laughed at the elder boy. But now it seemed he was being taken to deeper into the underworld to atone for his crimes. Each step took him farther from life he knew. At last the guards halted a massive wrought-iron gate a fitting portal to Hades itself.

A Centurion leaned idly on his spear in front of a wide gate "What have we here?" the Officer asked.

"Thief and troublemaker," The soldier of the left named him.

"A pretty little thing…quite a temper." the soldier on the right added grabbing his hip-length braid again to raise the boy's face into the flickering glow of torchlight.

"Orphan?" the officer asked and the others nodded.

"My name is Duo…you don't have to talk about me like I'm not here." his raw voice announced. Speaking hurt but when he tried to bring his hand to his throat the soldiers roughly bound his arms behind his back.

The officer laughed, "We'll take him from here." He told the men and other hands picked him bodily off the floor and carried him through the gate.

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Section One Notes Section:

_Questionarius_ is the rank of interrogator/torturer in the Roman legion.

Pantheon: meaning "Temple of all the gods" In 31 BC, Agrippa built and dedicated the original Pantheon during his third consulship (27 BC). This would have been the building Duo was familiar with. Agrippa's Pantheon was destroyed along with other buildings in a huge fire in 80 AD. The current building believed to have been built by Trajan dates from about 125 AD,

Polytheism, the worship and belief in many gods, was the common practice of the day. The deities listed are lesser gods worshipped in ancient Rome. In GW, Duo had a catholic background. I expect he knew the rules even if he didn't follow them to the letter. In this time period Catholicism does not yet exist. Many believe Christ was born around 4 AD so he would have been about 16 years old at this time. History tells us persecution of Christians in became widespread in the Roman Empire around 64 A.D.


	2. Worries of Warriors

Section Two: Worries of Warriors

Section Two: Worries of Warriors

"Just put him with this lot." The soldier growled. The cell door opened only long enough to dump the boy unceremoniously on the floor then the Centurion turned on his heel, locking the door behind him. Duo listened to the sound of his sandaled footfalls retreating quickly, giving way to the silence of stone. He sighed and with several twisting contortions he rolled into a ball and slipped his body through the loop of his arms. He gasped from the pain of his burns but once his hands were in front he had little difficulty working the knot loose and soon he was free…well, free-er anyway.

"Are you hurt?" A quiet voice asked from one side of the cell. The urchin jumped startled. He had not realized there were other occupants in the cell.

A young blond, dressed only in a long loincloth, pushed himself away from the wall and approached. His steps were accompanied by the whisper of bells on a silver anklet.

"Just singed a bit here and there, I think." Duo tried to sound cheerful as he tentatively tried to gauge how extensive the burns actually were. He was a bit confused when his dexterous fingers came in contact with metal where he expected to find flesh.

The blond read surprise on his features and quickly supplied, "It's a slave collar your identification code is stamped over the weld…and also marked on your shoulder. I expect it feels strange now but you will get used to it." The boy touched the band around his own neck. The metal had been wrapped with a thin strip of flesh colored cloth which he carefully worked loose. "Till then, this will help keep it from chafing." He explained deftly transferring the strip to Duo's collar.

"You don't have to do that." The braided boy tried to object but the little blond wouldn't hear of it.

"I can if I wish." the boy announced petulantly.

"Besides which, it will do none of us any good if that wound on your neck gets infected."

"What about..?" Duo brought his right hand to his left shoulder wincing as he craned his neck to see the burn on his shoulder blade.

"Stop that." The boy swatted duo's arm lightly. "The brand is a clean mark, heat sealed. It isn't bleeding. But if you move too much the skin can crack easily the way it did on your neck. I wish I had some salve to keep it from drying out. There are some plants I know that could help too…I don't suppose there would be any around here though."

The blond looked so fragile, his sapphire eyes so full of concern. Duo found it difficult to imagine the boy was the product of a lifestyle that made these things common knowledge. "Thanks," he mumbled. "I'm Duo by the way."

"I'm Quatre." The boy smiled then introduced the other three boys in the cell one at a time; "Trowa, Hero, and WuFei."

Unlike Quatre and himself the ones he named Trowa and Hero had heavy chains running from their slave collars affixed to metal rings in the stone. The third boy did not appear to be chained but he sat sulking in the corner and did not acknowledge Duo at all when he nodded in greeting.

"Trowa was a beast tamer in the Circus Maximus. I saw him compete once when my mistress took me. This bull charged right at him and he just stood there. It got closer and closer. I thought he was going to die. But he put out one hand and grabbed a hold of its horn and vaulted into the air flipping right over its head…it was magnificent! Most Venatores and Bestiarii use a spear when fighting beasts…Trowa uses a Triton, like a Retarii. My mistress said he was trained in the Ludi Magnus to be a Gladiator. Then His master sent him to the Schola Bestiarum as a Tyro. He doesn't talk much, Do you Trowa."

The young beast-master ran his long thin fingers through his hair but the dusky brown forelock slid right back into his green eyes. "No." Trowa said with a slight smile…and that was all.

Most of what the Quatre had said was true, what more could he add? Trowa mentally shrugged. He could have explained that Gladiators are usually owned by the school that trained them but have managers called 'Lanista' if they are sponsored or owned by an individual rather than a school the noble in question is called Dominus rather than Master. He could have clarified that in the arena they had named him 'Triton' after Neptune's son…the three pronged spear he used was called a 'Fascina.' He could have told them that a Tyro, is fully trained but not yet proven in the arena. He had already been proven by the time he was taken for his beast training.

But what was the point of explaining? The blond boy was just repeating what he had heard. A house slave could not understand what it was like to be a Gladiator and nothing he could say could change that. Trowa reasoned it was unlikely the braided boy would be chosen as a Novici suitable for arena training, so there was really no reason for him to know these things either.

Trowa's taciturn nature didn't bother Quatre a bit and he felt free to continue his introductions. "Hero here is a Gladiator too. He doesn't talk at all…at least he hasn't yet."

The boy in question was shorter than Trowa possibly a year younger his body was compact but sculpted of wiry muscle. He sat with his knees tucked up to his chest and his arms across them. His dark hair was wild, messily framing intense midnight blue eyes and the rest of his face was hidden behind the bulwark of his arms. He neither moved nor spoke.

"I don't think he is well." The blond frowned. "I overheard the Centurion in charge of transferring him from the Amphitheater tell one of the others he never thought he would see the day a Scissori would do the unthinkable. But I don't know what that means."

Quatre's words got Trowa's full attention. He knew Hero was a gladiator of course. The leather harness forming an 'H' over his heart, breechclout and studded bracers identified the other boy as a gladiator as surely as the 'y' shaped harness stretched high across Trowa's own chest and fastened over his shoulder. Rather than a breach-cloth the beast-lord wore a slightly less revealing subligaculum. Both fighters wore slave collars wrapped not in cloth but leather. Several schools of gladiators were commonly attired as they were. Trowa had not known which school the other had trained in, or why the other boy was here.

An uncomfortably tight feeling blossomed in the former Retarii's chest. His eyes smarted and his fists bunched as he fought the emotion that coiled within him. Trowa knew there was only one thing that was 'unthinkable' for a Gladiator, and only one thing the guards would do in response; and the information did not sit well with him, not at all.

Duo carefully examined the chain dangling from Hero's collar. Where it was fastened to the wall there was a large complex locking mechanism; but where it joined the collar it had a much simpler clasp. "I'll bet I could spring that." The young thief announced removing the metal clip from the end of his braid.

"NO!" Trowa said leaping suddenly to his feet. His own chain complained jangling loudly against the stone at the sudden movement.

Duo realized that the other fighter's chain was equally weak where it connected with the collar. "I can release you too If you like." He assured the lean fighter with a friendly smile.

Trowa shook his head in a firm negative. "Don't its too dangerous. He's not…he's…" the laconic fighter struggled to find the proper words. "Hero is Scissori, I am Retiarii. Loose either of us and there will be…problems."

"You wouldn't attack him, would you Trowa?" Quatre asked wide eyed.

The lithe fighter slumped back to the ground again resting his forearms on his knees his head hung down half his face covered by his long bangs. "In his condition I wouldn't trust either of us unless there was a trainer present." He mumbled.

"What condition?" Duo asked returning the hair clip before his chestnut hued braid started to work itself loose. Though he'd lived most of his life within easy walking distance from the Amphitheater he had never thought to buy a ticket to learn what the cheering was all about.

What little coin he managed to beg or steal went into filling his belly. He had heard the music and knew there were beast battles of course. In fact, that was one further reason he felt a fondness the god of death. His priests offered the flesh of the animals killed in the arena to the masses. The young urchin had tasted lion-steak grilled over an open fire and his stomach still rumbled at the thought of it.

The green-eyed fighter swallowed hard and took a deep breath before responding to Duo's question, "Quatre said he did the one thing forbidden to gladiators." Trowa explained shortly. Seeing the mystified looks on the others faces he felt compelled to continue "The people come for a show. He wasn't going to give them one. Hero wanted to die. With our training, suicide should be unthinkable… it IS unthinkable." The youth shivered. He had seriously considered the unimaginable on at least one occasion and the memory was not a comfortable one. His time in the _Ludus Dacus_ had been unbelievable harsh. If he had not been sent to the _Matutinus__Schola_for beast training it would have meant the end of him.

"The Scissore they cut," Trowa whispered toying idly with his chain. "They are unbelievable aggressive fighters, determined to end the match. If Hero refused, his Dominus would have used poison darts…to…to make him." Trowa couldn't remember when he had said so much at one time. He shook his head unable to go on.

He had seen Gladiators driven into a berserk rage. They were usually set against overwhelming odds…or against innocents. In ether case the result was a bloodbath. The fact that Hero had survived the encounter; and seemed at least physically unscathed, spoke as to which type this had been. So long as the poison was in his system he would be driven to find a conflict more…satisfying.

"Scissori are natural opponents of Retiarii." Quatre whispered putting the pieces together. "All this time he's been fighting the urge to kill you?"

"I expect the chain helps. Like dogs of war, our leash comes off when we enter the ring. With it on…we are trained to await our handlers command."

"But you aren't a Retiarii any more. You are a Venatori and have been for quite some time. Isn't it easier to resist the…challenge?" Quatre bit his lower lip in thought.

"I saw my trainer, my Lanista…die." The word sparked images behind his deep green eyes. Bared teeth, Flashing claws and angry amber eyes, torn flesh and hay soaked with blood…His trident plunging time and again into the bear's hide long after it had breathed its last. How could they blame him for the death? "He was the only one that could call me back from the ring. Till I get a new one…" Trowa shrugged again. "I can't be trusted either. Slaves like you and WuFei there have no idea what it is like for us."

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Section Two Notes: 

Triton: minor sea god of Greek myth. Son of Poseidon and Amphitrite, he was a messenger of the seas. He used a trident like his father. His symbol was also the conch-shell trumpet with which terrified his enemies, mimicking the sound of a giant beast, Adopted by roman myth.

Hero: Greek mythology: an immortal being or demi-god, the offspring of a mortal and a deity. Homer used the term to describe a warrior-chieftain of special strength, courage, or ability.

The types of gladiators and bits about their culture and training are mostly historically accurate. They were trained in schools called ludi and were defiantly conditioned not to suicide, though I have not found any specifics as to how. And yes, the arena beasts were served to the masses in much the same way you may get a hotdog at a modern ball game. Incidentally there were also scalpers selling overpriced tickets just as there are today.

There was rivalry between different types of gladiators and schools and equivalent weapons classes regularly faced one another in combat. I doubt it was a 'compulsive' reaction as seen here. I expect it would have been similar to the rivalry noted between some Army & Navy personnel or rival school football teams.

Retartii seemed the perfect class for Trowa as they did use trident and he fits naturally in the circus. Little is known about the Scissori which means 'cutter' we do know they had weapons and equipment similar to the 'Secutor' who did regularly fight against the Retarii. Using that class for Hero gives me a bit more freedom without being much of a stretch. A subligaculum looked just like boxer-shorts excepting that they were worn by gladiators not boxers. 

The Circus Maximus had been around since 329 B.C. and housed the first Olympic games. It was often used for chariot races and animal spectacles. Cesar Augustus had considerable renovation work done on it. The stone Statilii Tauri Amphitheater was built in 29 B.C. and was more suited to various forms of gladiatorial combat. That is likely where Heero would have trained as the coliseum was not completed till 80 A.D.

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	3. Gods and Barbarians

Section Three: Gods and Barbarians

Trowa seemed sad as he spoke. "Slaves like you and WuFei there have no idea what it is like for us." His words seemed so full of regret and disappointment. Quatre frowned wishing there was something he could do for his usually quiet friend.

Duo had been so intent on unraveling the mysteries of the arena fighters the final occupant of the cell had slipped his mind completely. This 'WuFei' had a foreign look about him. His hair was dark as a raven's wing and he wore it pulled into a tight topknot. His dark eyes had a slightly feline cant to them that made him appear wistful and mysterious. In the dim light Duo could just barely make out a pattern of fine black lines on his chest. When the young thief squinted he could see it depicted a great writhing beast, with a head and claws something like a lion but much more fierce. It had gazelle-like horns and a long snake like body. He had never seen anything like it.

"I am not a slave." WuFei explained tartly. "I am here because I was taken in battle."

"And before you became a spoil of war?" Duo asked his almost violet eyes shining in the dim light of the cell.

"I was a private retainer." WuFei said.

"He means a slave" Quatre snickered, attempting to use the situation to lighten the mood. He and WuFei had been in the cell together days before the others had been brought in and he had learned how to draw the proud youth into a conversation even when he was determined to remain aloof.

"No, even in this barbaric tongue I choose my words with care." The boy said indignantly. "I am an _Anja_ what you would call a retainer. I was bonded to the Long clan and not an object to be bought or sold. Emperor Jujun is an enlightened ruler. If you people were as civilized you would understand the only proper slaves, the _Nu_, are criminals owned by the government.

If a man refuses to act in a fitting manor he should be punished so much better if that punishment benefits the community. If they learn their lesson they should be free to go about their lives. If they continue to act against the best interest of soviet they should die. That is justice. Likewise hard work should be rewarded. In my country men achieve positions of prominence on the basis of merit rather than birth. Written examinations were adopted as a means of determining the best-qualified people. But you wouldn't understand such things I am sure."

WuFei did not mention that the reforms he had mentioned were a relatively new development in his country. Infact, many of his own people could not understand the reforms and rejected them. His master had been one such who opposed tax and property reforms the emperor hoped to implement. Ju Shirin voiced his distate for the emperors policies and that was what had gotten him exiled from Chang'an, and WuFei along with him.

It had seemed a great adventure at the time, to trace the path of Zhang Qian to the near legendary Western Empire. WuFei had been something of a scholar among the scribes in the temple of Nataku. He had a natural facility with languages and had often accompanied his master to document trade negotiations. He knew how to defend himself and had had on occasion fought alongside his master.

Thus he was the one Master Shirin had chosen to accompany into exile. What they had found in their journey to the west was nothing like they expected. Now the young slave was quite alone at the mercy of these strange people.

He bitterly forced the uncomfortable thought away. Instead the proud young man chose to dwell on how much better his condition had been before they left home. "I am not a barbarian such as yourselves I was raised in a civilized country; schooled in literature, philosophy, languages, obviously…I had the run of my master's estate and dressed in fine silks…" he self consciously smoothed down the decorated ecchu fundoshi that was all his captors permitted him to keep of his own clothing. In return they gave him a metal collar just like the others.

"He was a house slave, same as me." The blonde interrupted his smile growing wider.

"I was never a house-slave! I belonged to the temple. My master was a warrior-priest…temple slaves are entirely different than house slaves!" the young man scowled angrily.

"But you WERE a slave." Little blond teased.

"Urrg!" the Asian growled in frustration. "I would relish beating you senseless, if you weren't such a pathetic bleeding heart. But I would not wish to disgrace my goddess Nataku by fighting the unworthy."

"What sort of goddess is Nataku?" Duo asked instantly intrigued.

"Did you not hear me say master was a warrior-priest…She is the goddess of war of course." The foreigner rolled his eyes.

Duo nodded in understanding "We know her as Bellona…My patron is Orcus, the god of death."

WuFei tilted his head slightly as if regarding the braided boy from a new light. If he was familiar with Nataku, even under another name, then perhaps the people weren't all as weak and ignorant as he had thought. "Orcus…is Shinigami perhaps?" he asked raising one eyebrow.

"Shinigami" Duo tested the name. He liked the way the foreign word fell coming off his tongue. It sounded powerful yet elusive. "Yes, that seems right." He confirmed then asked, "What is that beast on your chest?"

The foreign boy actually smiled. "That is Shenlong the spirit dragon. He brings the wind and rain cleansing the earth. It is the symbol of my clan. Even here he watches over me. You see how the flames dance? It is the breath of Shenglong that makes them do this. You feel the dampness in the stone. That is his tears. He weeps for the loss of my master."

Duo could not feel the wind but He leaned against the bars in the cell door watching the torches on the opposite wall. It certainly seemed as if they were drawn in my some great beast.

"We have several wind gods," The braided boy said thoughtfully naming them on his fingers, "Africus, Aquilo, Auster, Corus, Favonius, Vulturnus and finally Tempestes is the goddess of storms but I have not of heard of anything like your spirit dragon. Travelers say that in Egypt they worship strange beasts, but they are mostly like men with animal heads. If Shenlong is here it must be for your sake." Duo told him earnestly and the other youth seemed to take comfort in the admission.

"Do you know anything of the northern gods Quatre?" Duo asked. "Do they have tales of dragon beasts?"

The blond looked puzzled. "Why would I know anything about the north…northerners are the true barbarians, incapable of acting or thinking like reasonable people. Everyone knows that."

Duo chuckled, "I am not well versed in northern legends but I know some things. My friend Solo told me the sun in the north is not as bold as it is here. It hides behind the clouds and the land is shrouded in trees; Living in the shadows makes the children of the Vandals, Teutons and other tribes naturally pale…just like you. Have you noticed there aren't many here with your coloring? That is because they all come from the northland."

"I-I didn't know." Quatre frowned; he knew he was considered 'an exotic' but he had considered the classification a matter of preference, nothing more. It was no secret his mistress scoured the markets for his particular 'type' she had 29 female slaves, all blond. The young mistress, her granddaughter, was blond as well. Quatre suspected that was what made Mistress Dermail partial to them. He was the only male she had been able to acquire. She mentioned offhandedly that the reason suitable males were so rare was because the military got first crack at them. He didn't know what she had meant and knew better than ask questions.

Slaves weren't supposed to speak about their past lives, making comparison between previous owners and situations was never productive, but surely if Mistress Dermail's slaves shared a common heritage someone would have said something. Wouldn't they? Quatre had been a slave of Rome almost forever. If he thought back very hard it was not to dark forests and a week sun. He remembered sand. Sand as far as the eye could see, wind tossed into giant waves. Those early recollections were fragmented and dim but surely he had come from the southern desert.

The little blond had a reoccurring dream of riders bearing down on them…someone shouted for him to run and he had. He felt the panic swelling in his chest. He had been a small child whimpering as the hot sand burned his feet. Still he ran, slipping and sliding in the soft powder. Finally the shelf of ground he had been crossing crumbled, sending him tumbling into the slavers grasp. They asked him what his name was, he had been proud to reply, _"Mastrquatre'berbawiner." _They had beaten him for it. Every day his training began in the same fashion…and that harsh education lasted for many days indeed.

Like water erodes sandstone. The brutal treatment wore away his pride, and his memories of what had come before. Every time they asked his name it seemed to get shorter. By the time he was first brought to auction, that long train of sound no longer held any meaning for him. He was simply Quatre and had been ever since.

The young blond supposed he should be grateful. Many slaves don't have names at all. Perhaps if his had been shorter to begin with he would not have one either. Quatre had been bought and sold multiple times over the years but being primarily a domestic slave meant he rarely left the house. When he did he was usually kept close by his owner's side. Rome was the only world he knew, and he didn't even know the city all that well.

"If it is any consolation I think you are all barbarians." WuFei added, but there was a teasing tone to his voice now that hadn't been there before. 'Amazing' Quatre thought. He had been trying to get the foreign boy to warm up for almost a week now and the braided boy managed it in a matter of minutes.

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Section three Notes: 

Emperor Wang Mang, called Jujun ruled during the Han dynasty 45 B.C. to 23 A.D. He was not of noble birth and is traditionally thought of as a usurper. He did pass the laws mentioned. Speaking against them was punishable by exile. The laws were mostly repealed by 12 A.D. because they were so unpopular. 

An 'Ecchu fundoshi' though known mostly in Japan is believed to have been derived from an earlier Chinese loincloth.

General Zhang Qian started the journey to the far West. From this journey came the first East to West trade route, a vehicle for cross-culture exchange. Goods were passed from hand to hand. Chinese silks were traded for Roman glass. Trade also included gold, gems, ivory, exotic animals and plants. Romans believed silk came from a tree and referred to people of the east as Seres' or silk people. The Roman historian Florus also describes the visit of numerous envoys, including Seres during the reign of Emperor Augustus 27 B.C. and 14 A.D.

In the ancient Rome, slaves were taken simply based upon need or want. There was no ethnic or territorial preference for the taking of slaves. As the vast majority was captured as the result of Roman wars, wherever there were Roman victories, there would be new slaves. Gauls, Germanics and other 'barbarian' races were preferred for their strength and endurance. In fact, the Romans in many cases preferred to use these tribes in auxiliary army roles rather than as slaves in the strictest sense which explains the lack of blond males to reach the markets. Quatre would have been too young to serve in this capacity. If General Catalonia fought in the north it would explain how Duke Dermal wound up with a blond granddaughter.

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	4. Rules and Reason

Section Four: Rules and Reason

Duo had always been a restless soul. Being able to roam pretty much where ever he wished, when he wished, was one of the few virtues of being a street urchin. Being cooped up in a small cell with four others quickly began to flay his nerves. Removing the clip from his braid and lacing his arm through the bars he took to fiddling with the lock. The tip of his tongue slid out of the corner of his mouth as he concentrated on the task he had set for himself. It was not too long before the lock fell away. Opening the door carefully he stuck his head into the hall.

"What are you doing?" Quatre hissed. "You can't just leave; the guards will kill you on sight…or worse."

"I wasn't intending on getting us caught." Duo frowned unhappily. He had expected the other boys would be overjoyed to leave with him once he showed them the way. He missed having close companions he could trust and these four didn't seem bad sorts; a bit prickly some of them, but not bad.

WuFei only shook his head no, his mouth an impassive line. During his months of slavery in the west he had learned that escape was not worth the risks.

Quatre let out a measured sigh. "Even if you leave the cell and somehow get free of the complex…you can't pick a welded collar. Even with tools it takes four men to remove and you will still have the brand. You are marked now. Wherever you go you will still be a slave. Where would you go with no one to vouch for you?"

Duo could tell the blond was visibly upset. "I can avoid soldiers," he explained keeping his voice calm hoping it would reassure the boy. "I have been doing it all my life. This is the first time I've ever been caught."

Quatre shook his head emphatically. "It is not just the soldiers you have to worry about now. There are plenty who would take advantage of a misplaced slave given a chance…and there are much worse things in life than slavery." Quatre shivered. He had tried to run away once…the tiny bells on his ankle were not the worst things that experience earned him. He would save the braided boy from that if he could.

Duo closed the door with a sigh and stalked the cell in agitation. He mulled over the things Quatre had said. "I don't like this," he frowned tugging helplessly on the collar. "Being stuck in here is driving me crazy. I have to DO something."

"Really, it is not so bad." Quatre tried to convince him. Of course freedom wasn't something he has much experience with. His last mistress had been harsh at times but she had been fair. He served her well and he hoped his file would appeal to a master of similar temperament. "We shouldn't be here more than a few more days." He explained "Then they will take us to the bazaar where we will go to auction. I expect you'll get a pretty good price, probably more coin than you've ever seen in your life. Last time I went for 500 Silver Denari."

Wufie's scowl deepened. "Slave auctions are inhumane. It is humiliating to parade oneself before savage hordes. To be poked and prodded, leered at and slapped. And that is before some foul smelling ruffian decides to make you their property. His most esteemed Emperor Jujun was most justified in his attempts to do away with such things."

But truth was, WuFei wasn't under that most benevolent emperor any longer. His connection with his past life had been irreparably severed. He was property. Despite what he told the others, these barbarians made him what they wished. WuFei tried to ignore the fact…tried to forget it…deny it, but all he need do was dislodge himself from his cramped corner and stretch himself out, as he longed to do, and the annoying jangle of bells would call him a liar.

"Some Master's are kind…some aren't." Quatre shrugged, "We don't have rights like citizens do. But we can have as much faith in Octavian Caesar as WuFei has in his Emperor Jujun! My mistress told me he openly objects to the harsh treatment of slaves. He even stepped in when he learned one of his senators was going to feed a slave to his eels."

The blond shivered at the thought before continuing with the tale, "The slave was particularly useless disserved to be punished. He was clumsy and broke some priceless glassware. But our Emperor Augustus thought the punishment did not fit the crime. The emperor had the duke brought to the palace and informed him that slaves deserve consideration and forbade him from dealing such harsh punishment. My mistress told me that the Emperor's warning made an impact on many in the court. I think we should hope for the best."

"What happened to the slave?" Duo asked his eyes shining with curiosity.

The little blonde's eyes were down cast and he drew his toe absently across the slate floor of the cell. Quatre's silence implied that the fate 'clumsy slave' was yet to be decided…how could it be, since he was sharing a cell with the rest of them.

Trowa frowned. "Augustus isn't all that understanding. Did you know he placed an age limit on manumition? It used to be that if a gladiator was victorious in three major bouts they could be eligible for release…provided they have earned enough coin to pay back their original purchase price. Not any more," The warrior reflected shaking his head in frustration.

"I've won four matches and earned ¾ of my bond price; not in silver but gold. I had almost 40 Quinarii, one more fight and I should have my Rudis, and my freedom. Instead I have got another fifteen years to serve. Do you suppose Augustus Caesar took into consideration most gladiators never reach the age of 30?" Trowa had likely spoken more in the past few hours than he had in the year before that but truthfully, there wasn't much else to do. He idly wondered if the boy, Duo's, nervousness were catching.

The braided boy stopped pacing, he was a casteless orphan what did he know of politics? He'd never considered what the nobles did as having any bearing whatsoever on the lives of the rest of the population. Apparently, these slaves knew better. Duo slumped to the ground in dejection. The thought the feeling of being trapped did not abate. To top it off he was hungry too. "When are they going to bring us something to eat." He wondered aloud.

"Not for a while." Quatre answered. "But you can be sure they will bring at least one meal every day. They want to keep us healthy for the market."

He couldn't stand it any longer. He needed a distraction. Duo mumbled something incoherent. He was down on knees and elbows crawling obliquely toward Hero.

"I wouldn't," Trowa warned. But the other boy didn't pay him any heed. He crept closer and closer to the statue like figure. Finally Duo took the tip of his braid and tickled the other boy's nose with it.

"Heeeero," Duo called in a whispery voice, "Shinigami god of death here…Just thought I should let you know you're still alive."

In a fraction of a heartbeat Duo found himself flat on his back with his chestnut braid twisted roughly around his neck, like a garrote. If not for the metal collar caught under the loop he'd likely be meeting the death god face to face, himself. Not to mention that the collar seemed to have protected the burn on his neck from further abuse. Minutes earlier Duo would not have imagined he would actually be grateful to the hated fetter. But, in a strange way he was.

"Idiot!" the dark eyed gladiator growled down at him, giving the hair a final tug before settling back down in the same position he had left. 'Shinigami, He knew Shinigami.' Hero's mind blurred. The death god taunted him many times over the years…no this irritating boy wasn't Shingami. But the fact that he had to prove it to himself only went illustrated how badly the darts were still affecting him. But he hadn't killed the braided baka. And that proved he still had some measure of control…no matter how small. Better just to sit quiet and wait for it to pass.

Trowa fought the urge to say 'I told you so,' but smirked none the less.

"At least we know he can talk," Duo said smiling as he gasped for breath.

The sound of movement in the hall silenced any reply the others might have made.

"Please be food…please be food…please be food!" The orphan thief prayed to any deity that might be listening.

It wasn't.

-----------------

Section Four Notes:

Roman slaves were treated in a wide variety of manners, as would be expected, depending on the circumstances, the household and the time period. Some house slaves were so highly regarded that they were considered parts of families. Tombs and gravesites lend evidence to support the praise that some Romans felt towards their slaves. Some really worked what we might consider a regular shift and were free to come and as they pleased outside of that time. Others lived in the cruelest and harshest conditions, victim to the whims of society or the cruelty of their masters. The incident with the slave and the eels is true as is the Emperor's reaction to it.

In the past, morays eels have been feared for many reasons. Giant morays can reach 10 feet in length and weigh 75 pounds. They have sharp needle like teeth that curve back into its mouth and powerful jaws. Some eels, such as the Atlantic green moray have a third row of teeth located on the roof of the mouth. This gives the animal a "snaggle-tooth" appearance. Roman Emperor Nero (15 AD - 68 AD) was also known to throw disobedient servants into pits filled with hungry morays. Even today, divers tell of being held in a bulldog grip by eels that "attack" for no reason. While it is true that some morays are aggressive, it has been found that many of the "attacks" were the fault of the divers! Some divers were injured while searching for lobsters or shells when they poked their hands inside of caves occupied by eels. In other cases, the animals were attracted by freshly cut fish which the divers carried into the water.

Manumission is the act of freeing a slave. The change in the law pertaining to gladiators also occurred during the reign of Augustus's. In the Republican period slaves had no rights and were always subject to the whims of their owners. They did have some legal standing. They were allowed to act as witnesses in trials, and could gain freedom either through their owner's gratitude after loyal service or by buying it through the meager earnings they might collect over a lifetime of service. For example, owners in the Republic had the right to kill or mutilate slaves at a whim, but later imperial laws took this right away, Augustus's reaction to the thought of feeding a slave to the eels is documented though in practice his law could be largely ignored. Not so with the change in laws pertaining to gladiator which was thought to be an issue of public safety.

In the first century a full grown male slave cost between 500--1500 Denarii, Females were worth more. 1 Gold Quinarius is equal to 12.5 Silver Denarii. (I hate math)

The expense of slaves made it lucrative for the smart Roman to treat them well and keep them healthy. Gladiators were sometimes considered worth their weight in gold, and while still kept closely guarded, they could also be afforded the greatest of luxuries when appropriate. Great fame and fortune could not only come to the owner, but the gladiators as well, and the best of the best were treated as such. Some Romans would even sell themselves into slavery, including the arena, in order to pay off tremendous debts or in an effort to become famous.


	5. Talented Trainer

Section Five: The Talented Trainer 

The soldier that entered the small cell was impressive in every facet of the word. He was without a doubt one of the tallest people Duo had ever seen. His shoulders were unbelievable broad made even more so because of the armored cuirass, which had been skillfully shaped to mimic his clearly muscled physique.

The man carried himself with crisp military discipline; though, his hair was a far cry from anything resembling regulation. It was long, worn in a loose cascade, easily reaching the base of his spine. In color, it was pale as corn silk and his eyes were startlingly blue. This man was clearly of the race Quatre had so recently judged 'barbarian.'

In truth the Soldier was a Feoderati Salararius who fought alongside the Praetorian guard. When dealing with the barbarian tribes in the north there were some who blatantly refused to be conquered. In these cases some of the bold foreign warriors were bound not by law but by treaty to serve in the ranks of Rome. They received the rights of citizens and fought quite effectively as mercenary shock troops when dealing with other barbarian tribes or in various positions throughout the empire.

Duo still vividly recalled his previous encounter with the Imperial Guard, given his current circumstance; he had every reason to believe this individual was here for the express purpose of making his life more unfortunate than it already was. The young thief did his best to blend into the shadows.

The soldier's impassive gaze drifted over the other occupants of the cell, ruffling through a folio of parchment he spoke more to himself than to any of them, "Let's see. Two gifted gladiators, for me; Hero and Triton." He pointed to each in turn. "And two educated exotics for Master Treize; Quatre and WuFei. As ordered." Then he turned and looked squarely at the young thief, "What are you?" The man asked puzzled.

"I'm Duo." the braided boy answered as best he could. He was only just getting used to the idea of being a save at all, and had absolutely no notion of what 'type' of slave he was meant to be.

"Duo." He sorted through the files belonging to the other slaves till he found the single sheet that was blank but for the three letters, date, and reference number. "There it is. It appears you have been paid for along with the rest. I'm sure we will find something for you to do at the villa."

"We don't have to go back to the auction?" Quatre asked timidly.

"No…Master Treize is finalizing the purchase as we speak. But I'm going to need a hand with these two first." he said indicating the two boys chained to the wall. "Will you help me?"

"I-If I can…master." The blond faltered.

The elder blond chuckled, "I am no master, on a soldier's salary I could hardly afford one of you…let alone all five. I am called Marcus Zechs. You may call me Zechs or M'lord. Master Treize has paid the purchase price for you and I am of his household. He had asked me to act as Lanista for your fighter friends here."

At the admission that this man was to be their new manager, both Trowa, and Hero snapped to strict attention, their chains rattling against the stone. The two gladiators stood straight and tall with a fist clenched over their heart in salute; though Hero teetered unsteadily. Despite his earlier reaction to the irritating boy, he was still very much impaired by the drugs dealt him in the arena. The world spun and blurred in and out of focus. Hero leaned his back against the cool stone and took shallow breaths till his balance stabilized.

Zechs acknowledged the salute and moved first to Trowa replacing the heavy chain affixed to his collar with one that was both shorter and lighter, more leash like with a simple clasp. Then he passed the loose end to a very surprised Quatre. "Just keep the chain taunt and you'll be fine boy. You aren't going to be troublesome are you Triton?" The lithe fighter shook his head 'no', careful to keep his green eyes downcast. "Good lads." The soldier patted both boys on the arm then turned his attention to Hero.

His eyes flicked over the young gladiator's arms, chest and neck, taking note of each tiny red welt marking his lightly tanned skin. 4, 8…9…11 each mark had been left by a tiny dart. 4 was usually more than enough to get the desired effect. After this many hits, it was a wonder the youth was standing what's more, he still seemed sane. "Extraordinary," Zechs whispered as he replaced the heavy chain with a more moderate one for transport. He looked into Hero's eyes. The Prussian blue was a barely noticeable ring around his hugely dilated pupils.

"WuFei, I'm going to need you too. Hold him tight now." The soldier said passing the chain to the closest available hands. "We're trained not to strain against the lead, but he's not thinking clearly. I need you to lead him down the hall. We aren't going far." the soldier explained and the foreign boy obeyed with a sullen glare.

Duo cocked his head wonderingly at the imperial soldier his thoughts spun: Had he had heard correctly? The man said WE…we are trained. Did that mean he was including himself along with the two gladiators? Did they let slaves serve in the military? He didn't think so.

Duo had never heard the term "Auctorati" and did not know there were people who actually surrendered the rights of citizenship voluntarily for the experience of battling in the arena. The fact that they had been born freemen had no bearing whatsoever on their treatment either in training or in the ring. It was a harsh life but it had its benefits too.

"Duo, you stay with me." The soldier's words jarred the young thief from his thoughts. I expect you are the one responsible for leaving the cell door unlocked." He cast a knowing look at the rope that had bound the boy wrists earlier. "You aren't going to try to run off are you? That would not be wise. Though we weren't looking to purchase one of your talents the money had already exchanged hands. I expect Master Treize will want to speak with you. It would not be wise for you to try to leave us."

"He didn't leave, sir. Not one foot out the door!" Quatre defended, not realizing that in his eagerness to be helpful he had just confirmed that Duo's HAD picked the lock in the door. The braided thief never lied—out of respect for the implacable god of death as much as by personal choice—but some part of him wished the blonde had at least attempted to cast suspicion on some sloppy prison guard, rather than implicate him outright. He shook his head and sighed, falling into step beside the tall solder.

As the six figures made their way down the hall, Hero let out a low growl and lunged at Trowa. The other fighter bristled and glared…It took every bit of his self restraint not to rise to the challenge.

"Trowa, please." Quatre whispered feeling the other boy tense. He placed his free hand on the chain near the fighter's collar. Trowa took a deep breath, releasing it slowly, hissing through his grit-teeth.

WuFei was not so gentle. He wound Heero's leash around his fist jerking it taunt then laced the fingers of his other hand beneath the other boy's iron collar. Should the wiry young gladiator attempt something similar, it would half-strangle him.

The small blond gave WuFei a slight frown…his liquid eyes silently asking if it had been necessary to be that rough. WuFei ignored him. The dark eyed young man was still a bit perturbed that when 'M'lord Zechs' handed him Heero's lead, he had taken it without question. He had complied instinctively to the voice of authority—they had trained him well, these barbarians, and WuFei hated them for it.

With each step the sound of the bells on his ankle fanned the flames of his fury. His bells were larger and louder than the ones on Quatre's anklet. He had reached his breaking point some months earlier. It was true he had tried to run. His harsh savage masters' lessoned him well against attempting such a thing a second time. He gave up. Did that make him a coward? The memory humiliated him, as did the bells.

In an attempt to think about anything but the emotions twisting in his gut, WuFei decided to test a hypothesis he had some time ago regarding the strange blue-eyed gladiator. In the trade language of his homeland WuFei quietly whispered What have they made you Hīro, Some type of performing pet?

"Hn," the other replied closing his eyes. It had been so long since he heard any language even remotely like that of his childhood. The gladiator was not even sure he could trust himself to speak it with any facility--but he clearly understood the other boy's words and his fists clenched, but he did not tug against the chain.

WuFei squeezed the young gladiator's upper arm. Still in the eastern tongue he said, _I thought I recognized your looks…you are an islander, one of the Wō tribesmen. They are proud warriors. How could you let them do this to you? Have you forsaken your ancestors? Your clan?_

_Dàfu Yui, _Hīro_ Yui _ the gladiator mumbled the half-remembered name. _of Tsukushi._ He frowned, the words sounded alien to his tongue. But his name HAD been Heero. 'Hero' was what his trainers had made him. The boy's numbed mind grappled to recall a time when they had not. What life had been like before he his destiny had been forged in the arena? Master Odin trained him. He had been bought from pirates. The pirates trained him too, he had been eager to learn at first. He felt he owed them something.

The Captain of 'The Red-Eyed Jay' pulled him out of the sea. He recalled aimless drifting; unrelenting hunger, thirst and cold. Was there anything left of the child who had shouted against wind and wave…cursing Shinigami in that half-forgotten tongue? How old had he been when the typhoon shattered his world? The thoughts shied away. He clenched his teeth in frustration. With an involuntary shiver Heero turned his face from the obsidian-eyed boy whose foreign features cried out for recognition.

Section Five Notes:

Zechs is: A Feoderati: a foreign native who has become a soldier of Rome by treaty having some of the rights of citizens. A Salararius: A roman soldier on special assignment; Which explains why he is with Treize rather then stationed in a garrison somewhere. He was also an Auctorati: a non-slave that chooses to temporally surrender their rights to train and fight as a gladiator for a given length of time.

When Octavian became Ceasar he established the Praetorian Guard, or the Praetoria Cohors, because he saw the need to establish a body of soldiers explicitly loyal to himself. Their primary role, of course, was the personal protection of the Emperor, but they also functioned as a police force both in Rome and other Italian cities. Octavian treated his elite soldiers well and went to great lengths to ensure their total loyalty. They earned 60 dernarii a month but were qualified to receive substantial bonuses. They served for 16 years instead of 20 to 25 which was standard in other branches of service and upon retirement, the Praetorian also received 5,000 denarii, a land settlement and a military diploma.

The history for Japan during this period is sketchy at best. Most is archaeological evidenceAncient Chinese texts refer to theearly inhabitants of Japan as the _Wō_ Tsukushi is one of the ancient names of Kyūshū the most southerly island of the chain. It is believed to be the oldest settled area. There have been devastating typhoons in this area. Dàfu is a title of a respected elder or clan leader and is represented by the same symbol in both Chinese and Japanese.

A maritime route opened up between Chinese-controlled Jiaozhi (centered in modern Vietnam, near Hanoi) probably by the 1st century AD. Hundreds of Roman coins were discovered in North Vietnam suggest it extended, via ports on the coasts of India and Sri Lanka, all the way to Roman-controlled ports in Egypt and the Nabataean territories on the northeastern coast of the Red Sea. 

Pliny the Elder, wrote that Quintus Caecilius Metellus Celer, proconsul in Gaul (France), 59 B.C. received 'several Indi' as a present from a Germanic king. The 'Indians' were driven by a storm to the coasts of Germania. During Roman times "Indians" designated all Asians, from India and beyond. This notation could be evidence for the Northeast Passage and the northward strait out of the Caspian Sea—which in Antiquity was usually thought to be open to Oceanus in the north. As far as I'm concerned it seems likely that Odin, being of Germanic origin (more on this later), could have obtained Heero in a similar fashion.


	6. Meet the Master

Section Six: Meeting the Master

Their destination was a large chamber which had been outfitted for a private gladiatorial contest. There was a raised dais at one end where several benches had been set. The main the floor was covered with sand, for easy clean up, and off to each side was a low table where each fighter's equipment had been set.

"Quatre, WuFei…if you wouldn't mind taking your charges to their respective sides, I would appreciate it." The soldier's tone was not harsh but it did not allow for any objections either. "I am sure they can tell you if they need help getting equipped. When master Treize gives you the word, unclip the chains. Then you may join him on the dais or stay off to the side as you wish. But do not interfere with the bout, it would be dangerous not just for you, but for them as well."

As the captain said the words a doorway behind the dais opened to admit the man in question. "That-that is Treize Khushrenada!" Quatre faltered, his sapphire eyes going wide as the illustrious noble entered and took his seat on the dais. Mistress Dorothy had spoken of the man often and few people could evoke that note of respect in her voice.

"Yes." Zechs confirmed idly caressing the wolfs-head clasp that held the rectangle half-cloak at his shoulder. There was no question that the soldier proudly bore the symbol of house Khushrenada…one of the most ancient senatorial families in Rome. Master Treize was elite among the elite, the chosen leader of the _Ordo Equester_.

But neither the name nor the position meant anything to Duo. When the noble beckoned for his newest slave to join him on the bench, Duo gave the ginger-blond gentleman a measuring stare. The urchin guessed the man was likely two years elder than his captain, at least five years older than any of his new slaves. Treize was not as tall as Zechs but just as fit. His ready smile didn't seem half as intimidating as his blond retainer. Even so Duo had never been one to underestimate a citizen of Rome, let alone a high ranking one. He decided it was best to obey.

Even he could see their new master was a man of rank. He was dressed in a fine blue tunic with embroidered hem and cuffs belted with intricately crafted links of gold scale. A fine woven toga was draped artfully around his torso and over one shoulder. Only Citizens of Rome were permitted to wear the toga and Master Treize's bore the thin stripe of tyrian-purple on the right shoulder and hem marking him a favorite of the emperor himself.

Trowa and Heero mechanically went about the business of arming themselves and Duo was fascinated by the process. Quatre helped the former _Retarii_ fasten a sleeve of armored scale to the leather harness so that it covered his left arm, shoulder and part of his chest. Master Treize noticed Duo's interest and guessed correctly that the boy had never seen the gladiators fight. "That arm-guard is called a _Manica_." The man told him. "The Retarii fight with the trident and net. The Scissori are swordsmen they wear a shield and helm. Both classes are well matched and if these two are as skilled as I have heard, this should prove an interesting fight."

Duo acknowledged the comment with a nod. A tiny voice in the back of his mind—that sounded quite a bit like Quatre—cautioned that this was his new master. He should show more deference to the one who held his destiny. "Um-Hum," The young thief mumbled too absorbed in the activity in the sands before him to pay his conscience any heed.

Both of Heero's forearms were covered by his heavy leather bracers. He strapped a metal guard over the upper portion of his right arm and buckled another tightly to his left calf. Master Treize said they were called '_ocrea_.' On his right calf Heero strapped a leather sheath holding a small dagger. Next he clipped the small round shield called a '_parma_' to the straps on the harness which formed an H across his chest. Finally he ran his fingers through his unruly brown hair and placed a bronze helm with upswept wings on his head.

Each piece of armor seemed make the young gladiator more confident…more balanced and sure of himself. When WuFei finally handed him two twin short-swords the Scissori seemed reborn…A beast raring for the fight.

Zechs set on the edge of the low stone platform readying himself for the match as well. Even after a year and a half, his pulse quickened in anticipation of re-entering the arena. The thrill of battle was a strong drug and he could still identify with the eagerness of the other two warriors. The soldier stripped off the symbols of his rank; the linen half-cloak, the metal breastplate, dagger and short-sword.

He even removed his sandals for gladiators always fought barefoot on the sands of the arena. Then Zechs re-fastened his decorated belt over his unadorned knee length tunic. Into his belt Zechs thrust the small wooden sword. The _rudis_ was a symbol declaring that he had fought for, and won, his freedom in the arena. He needed that reminder, it was so easy to slip back into that mindset and become again what he had been.

Seeing Zechs preparations nearing completion Treize leaned over, and whispered, "Good luck my friend." Then the noble handed him a distinctive metal helm. This was not the usual open faced soldier's helmet made of Iron and bronze topped by a crest of dyed horse hair. This was the impassive visored '_galea_' worn by champions in the arena.

Zechs armed himself only with a wooden staff, about a meter in length, and a whip. In the arena, the muscular blonde had been a _Provocatori_, trained in multiple styles and weapons, able to meet any foe. Honestly he preferred to battle with sword and shield rather than with whip and rod. Still, they would serve his purpose well enough for these were the tools of the beast-tamer, and at present Hero, and Triton were the ones in need of taming.

Both fighters waited with baited breath for the battle to begin. Quatre and WuFei were forced to hold their respective chains at the neck to prevent the eager combatants from straining against the clasp. As Duo had pointed out, the pins holding the chain were particularly weak. If either fighter struggled too hard there would be no holding them back.

"Do you really want to do this?" Quatre asked but the blood was already pounding so loudly in Trowa's ears he didn't hear the words…and wouldn't have been able to answer if he had.

Heero had been trained by Odin One Eye. The famous lanista was so named not because of injury or defect but because he schooled his Scissori in single-minded focus, nothing existed but his opponent. He would pursue victory relentlessly. All he needed was the command to begin. Finally it came.

Section Six Notes:

Ordo Equester: the Equestrian Order: frequently translated as 'knights'. They were sons of senators and other non-senatorial members of senatorial families as such they were not restricted in their business ventures and were a wealthy and powerful force in Roman politics. Members of the Order wore an iron ring as a symbol. (sounds like Romefeller and OZ to me.)

Odin One Eye: Odin is considered the chief god in Norse mythology. His name is related to óðr, meaning fury, excitation, mind or poetry. His role, like many of the Norse pantheon, is complex. He is a god of wisdom, war, battle and death. He is also attested as being a god of magic, poetry, prophecy, victory and the hunt. According to ledged Odin sacrificed his left eye at Mímir's spring in order to gain the Wisdom of Ages. What better name for the assassin who trained the perfect soldier?


	7. Points of Contention

Section Seven: Points of Contention

_"Verbera!"_ (Strike!) Treize commanded. WuFei and Quatre reacted immediately to the tone in the nobleman's voice and loosed the chains. The two gladiators hurtled toward one another. Trowa spun his net of weighted metal mesh, trying to entrap one of Heero's short swords. But the other fighter didn't fall for it. His twin blades flashed and Trowa was forced instead to wrap the net around his unprotected forearm for nothing less would turn the maddened gladiator's attack. The deadly swords he used were the Gladius…after which the gladiators were named and in Heero's hands they became extensions of his body and mind; keen edged and just as swift.

Trowa blocked with the haft of his trident and lunged for his opponents lightly protected shoulder. The strike was fast and his aim true but he had not counted on the other boy's speed. Heero back pedaled and pivoted on his back foot then lunged forward under the incoming spear. Bringing his blades in parallel to one another aiming for Trowa's exposed midriff.

But Heero did not take into consideration that he was not facing an average Retarius. Trowa had learned things in the Circus Maximus that had not been part of any training routine other boy had been drilled to face. The lean boy bent nearly in half backwards. The twin blades tore through the air inches above his navel. Heero overextended when his target suddenly disappeared. And Trowa's bare feet suddenly swung upwards clipping him under the jaw. His head snapped back sharply. The acrobat shifted his weight briefly to his hands and proceeded to flip himself upright again just outside the other fighter's reach.

The wild-eyed gladiator roared in shock and anger at the unprecedented move. He clanged his blades together in challenge, being well beyond the capacity for coherent speech. He began rotating the twin blades in opposite directions weaving the near impenetrable whirlwind of attack and defense that gave the Scissores their name.

With a flick of his wrist Trowa loosed the net from his right forearm. He held the outside edge and began twirling it in a slow loop to work out any links in the fine metal mesh. If he could ensnare his prey that match would be his. If the other boy dodged he would surely fall to those flashing blades.

The observers watched with baited breath as the two fighters slowly circled one another like the orbits of the planets around the earth. Their practiced footfalls traced patterns in the sand. Dark-green eyes locked with Prussian-blue clearly neither intended to turn away if other raised a finger to acknowledge defeat…if the battle continued in this fashion, it would not end till one of the two was bleeding out on the sand. That was when Zechs chose to strike.

His whip lashed out licking the back of Heero's unprotected calf; suddenly sending him to his knees. One of his blades slid from his grasp as he attempted to break his fall. A heartbeat later Zech's rod tangled with Trowa's net easily yanking it from his grasp.

Quatre's gasp was audible from the sidelines and both young fighters seemed equally stunned by the unexpected attack. But neither was ready to lay aside the battle they had begun. Heero rocked to his feet and charged Trowa once again. The Retarii met the rush with the triple point of his _Fascina_; twisting the shaft as he tried to wrench the blade from Heero's grip.

This time the lash stung Trowa between his bear shoulder-blades and the rod connected hard with the shield on Heero's chest, knocking him back a pace. Zechs positioned his body between the two young men, making himself the only target. Both enraged gladiators hurled themselves at the tall man and he fought them to a stand still. His staff spun so quickly it dazzled the eyes. But his strikes were carefully gauged so they did not break the skin. The placement was to discourage further attack rather than deal damage. After a stinging blow, that left elbow and arm numb, Trowa came to his senses recognizing that he had no business fighting his trainer.

The young beast-lord had used these same tactics when he had been trying to train two aggressive male tigers to perform together. In like fashion he and Heero would have gladly ripped each other apart if the _lanista_ was not quick to settle the ingrained rivalry. The man knew his business Trowa admitted, stepping back from the fray. He plunged the tines of his trident into the sand and knelt beside it with his arms across his chest.

Heero on the other hand was driven to fight not only by the riot of emotions normally loosed when he was sent into the arena but because that inclination was magnified sevenfold by the chemicals still in his system. What Heero lacked in height and muscle strength he gained in speed and stamina. With a quick tumble he recovered his second blade. His wild-eyes cast about for his target and his hazy mind registered kneeling posture as a non-combatant, but the tall one in the mask was still a threat. The young _Scissori_ viscously renewed his attack. Zechs used his rod to great effect holding Heero at a distance while the lash bit again at his unprotected flesh…his stomach this time.

Treize watched the combat yes, but he also observed the reaction of his other slaves. Each crack of the whip made both Quatre and WuFei wince. Both were riveted to the scene unfolding before them. The noble judged the expressions on their faces clearly they knew amount of leather that actually contacts the flesh determined the amount of damage the whip inflicts. Duo sat beside the noble on the dias he seemed intent on watching the combat. But Treize could not truly observe the braided boy without taking his attention from the sands. But surely, he would have been able to feel the boy stiffened if he had been mistreated as the other slaves had been.

Some whips contain pieces of metal or bone to better rend flesh…Zechs's did not. His was a bullwhip and he was a master in its use. Treize would never have agreed to permit this 'contest' if he were not absolutely certain the other man would permit only the smallest fraction of the trailing ends of the lash to score the boy's flesh…Each lash left only a small red welt instead of angry stripe.

Heero was panting heavily from exertion still he attacked with murderous intent. He caught the rod between the crossed blades of his swords, chipping away at the painted wood as he ducked under it. The move tore both blades from his grasp but did not deter him from going for his dagger.

In close quarters both Zech's weapons were nearly useless but that did not stop him from grabbing the boy's wrist with both hands and twisting it painfully behind his back. The knife fell from his nerveless grasp. Still, his free arm flailed across the tall man's chest, knocking the featureless mask from his face. Zech wrapped his other arm around the struggling boy, lifting his feet off the ground and holding him immobile some moments. _"Otium cum Dignitate,"_ (Rest with dignity) Zechs soothed and slowly the fight left he boy. The soldier removed the boy's helm and smoothed his unruly hair. "Shhhhh."

The flood of white hot emotion drained away, taking with it the taint the darts had left in Heero's system. When the blond soldier finally released him, Heero slipped bonelessly to the sand kneeling where he had fallen. He looked so lost, childlike—tears threatened to escape his Prussian-blue eyes and he was at a loss as to why this was so.

After all, he had not been defeated by the net fighter...It had been a good fight. He had taken no serious damage and felt no pain…it was a tie. He was surprisingly content with that situation. Perhaps it was only fatigue making him feel so week. Finally the boy was able to pull himself together to make the standard reply to his lanista. _"Pulvis et umbra sumus." _(We are dust and shadow)

Hearing the phrase, Trowa got to his feet leaving his weapons where they were. He bowed once to Master Treize and again to Zechs accepting both as his rightful keepers he willingly stood alongside Heero and together they renewed the pledge of the gladiator. _"Uri, vinciri, verberari, ferroque necari."_ (I will endure to be burned, to be bound, to be beaten, and to be killed by the sword.)

Zechs swelled with pride that he had managed to win the respect of the two young fighters so quickly. He had spent years living under that harsh pledge and found himself repeating the words quietly even as the lads did.

Treize did not share his captain's understanding of the sentiment and bristled at the formal declaration. The tall blond had tried to explain the necessity many times to his noble friend. It was clear the words of the _sacramentum_ had been painstakingly engraved on the hearts and minds of every arena combatant but, it wasn't something that those outside the _familia gladitoria_ could easily comprehend.

The closest Zechs had come to adequately explaining what the oath meant to those that lived under it, was to say that; "To be a slave is to have no control over your destiny. The gladiator's oath gives us a measure of volition and even honor. By willingly choosing this life, along with all it entails, it can not be forced upon us. We are slaves but can not be enslaved. You can not take this from them…it is a gladiator's one hope, that which gives us the strength to endure."

At the time the only reply Treize could think of was to remind his friend that he wasn't a slave anymore and try to encourage him to put such disturbing notions behind him. But now the noble wanted to do more for the boys that had just willingly pledged their lives to him. Their "one hope" wasn't nearly enough.

As Master it was his right to say something too. The ginger-haired gentleman took a breath and announced a sentiment that was near to his heart…one he hoped to share with those, both bound and free, who comprised his household. "Vita non est vivere sed valere vita est—Dico." (Life is more than merely staying alive—So say I)

Section Seven Notes:

In the ancient world the earth was the undisputed center of the universe and the planets and sun revolved around it. Copernicus did not propose the idea of the sun centered 'solar system' until 1514.

The one drawback to gladiatorial fighting was that it was formulaic in nature. It seemed mechanical and didn't allow for the combatants to do something unexpected. In desperate circumstances there have been times when gladiators have trained imperial soldiers for combat…but once the soldiers engage in actual warfare their knowledge grows from theory to practice. The gladiators in essence are still performers; like professional wrestlers, some only competed 3 times a year. The rest of the time they are in training. Our G-boys are clearly extraordinary, but Zechs having experience in the arena, in the roman legionary style and the 'barbarian' tactics of the north. Not to mention he is both bigger and stronger which of course gives him an edge.

The gladiator's oath. _"Uri, vinciri, verberari, ferroque necari,_" is true and just as I described it. In trying to commit suicide (self detonate) rather than slaughter unarmed political prisoners (pacifists) in the arena Heero rejected his oath and that failure cost him. In willingly pursuing the fight with Trowa and Zechs then taking up the oath again the breach was sealed and his honor was restored, (mission accepted)


	8. Bells and Blades

In my initial outline this was to be the final chapter of this story, but it didn't end up that way. In consequence this is longer than the others. I hope you enjoy it, there is more to come.

Section Eight: of Bells and Blades

Duo had been fascinated by the sheer ferocity of the battle on the sands. He was mighty good in a scrap on the streets but none of the boys he ran with had ever had any sort of training. For them it was a matter of instinct and survival. A bit of polish could only improve his already considerable skills. Duo had to admit the big blonde definitely had style and he didn't seem intent on injuring the younger fighters just blunting their aggression somewhat. The street rat wondered idly if his new 'master' would let him train with the boys. After the match, when the nobleman was checking over all three combatants for 'damage' he asked Quatre what he thought about becoming a fighter.

The little blonde's gaped at him, seemingly thunderstruck. "Don't even think it!" he hissed, sea-blue eyes full of worry. "Weapons and slaves DON'T mix, Gladiators are the ONLY exception and unless you want to take on that horrible oath keep your mouth shut and accept whatever clothing you are given!" he hissed.

That last comment made absolutely no sense to the braided boy. Clothing? He wondered. He didn't know that when a slave changes hands they are usually taken to a small holding cell where they are expected to clothe themselves in accord with their new master's tastes and needs.

Quatre in particular had always been grateful for the practice since the nature and material of the outfit provided gave him some clue as to what duties would be expected to perform. It was also symbolic, slipping off the raiment of his former mistresses and setting it aside helped him mentally prepare for the transition, becoming what his new owner required.

Master Treize apparently had other thoughts on the matter. Instead of providing his slaves with new tunic, leathers or breech cloth featuring his colors or device he handed each boy a handful of vouchers and let them loose in the commissary to "sort themselves out" while he and Zechs shared their impressions about the five youths.

The cavernous room contained all manner of clothing and gear suitable for slaves. Being a domestic, Quatre had always been attired in rose, peach, tan or white. Some of his owners dressed him in linen, others preferred silks. But this place offered unthinkable variety ranging from rough tunics and breaks used in by common laborers on farms or mines across the empire to extravagant costumes of royal concubines. There was delicate jewelry and heavy chains. The young blond wondered aimlessly between rows of shelves and display racks wondering what Master Khushrenada's preferences would be, and what punishment could he expect for choosing wrong.

The two nobles easily judged that Chang and the two gladiators seemed equally cautious about the whole prospect of choosing for themselves. But Duo was different. "Till recently he's been an orphan living on the streets." Zech's explained.

Treize's eyes widened in surprise, "He's completely untrained?"

"Untrained as a slave, but don't mistake that to mean he has no valuable skills. A boy who has survived the streets by living off his wits could be very useful. But locks won't hold him; I have no doubt of that." The soldier remarked watching as the boy tested the weight of the five thin strips of metal Treize had given him as he meandered through the isles.

The braided boy knew the value of coin but the strips were just vouchers. Five strips meant five new articles of clothing. He had never owned more that a thin blanket and what was on his back at any given time. When his clothing got too small or worn he would swap with one, or several, of the other boys in his gang. If they did not have what he needed he would 'find' something 'misplaced' by washerwomen at the river. Actually shopping for something previously unworn was a new experience for him, but not an unpleasant one.

What would anyone do with five tunics? Duo wondered. Maybe he should get a cape…or jewelry…Duo's eyes widened as he picked up a delicate anklet of golden bells similar to that Quatre wore. He had some idea of how much even one of these bells could go for in the streets.

"Put it down!" WuFei told the braided boy. The hatred with which he regarded his own bells carried over to his voice.

Duo winced at the other boy's tone...but he did not immediately obey. "You could buy a lot of bread with a trinket like this." he reasoned, "Yours anklet might be silver rather than gold but the chimes are larger than these. If you wanted to sell them in the marketplace, you could have plenty to eat for weeks."

"In case you haven't noticed…mine don't come off." The Eastern youth ground his teeth together.

Treize had noticed that the eastern youth winced with every step. Zech's had thought it was because the anklet was too tight but Treize knew quite a bit about pride…when the two slaves began their exchange he was sure to move near enough to overhear the hushed conversation. "Are you still planning on running away?" The noble interjected, startling both boys.

Duo shrugged and gave a noncommittal snort but the comment had been directed to WuFei and the brooding youth knew it. "Where would I go?" he shook his head and shrugged, "Slaves are too stupid to learn." He admitted sullenly and then with venom in his voice declared, "Punish me if you will."

Fury blazed momentarily in the nobleman's eyes. He took the dark youth by the shoulder and pushed him backward, steering him toward a low table. Wufei found himself seated on the marble surface fear in his eyes. "M-sorry master," he squeaked, despite his usual bravado he had learned long since to cringe at a Roman's touch.

"How do you feel about these bells?" Treize asked taking the boy's ankle in both his hands.

WuFei was cowed…his first inclination was to lie to the man…insist that what ever was the master's will was his will. He knew his contract stipulated that he was to wear the bells as a reminder to all that he had attempted thief. Escape was in essence the same as stealing from his master after all—He could have lost a limb for that. But that would have decreased his resale value…instead he was required to wear the bells. Perhaps this master would rather take his foot to keep him from running off. It would be within his right. Tears stung his obsidian eyes.

Seeing the tangle of confused emotions flick across the boy's face Treize pinned him with an iron gaze. "Don't lie." He warned.

WuFei's shoulders slumped in defeat. "I despise them." he whispered.

Treize nodded and Zechs appeared suddenly from the other side with a hammer and chisel. Before the boy could adequately prepare himself, the two men struck off his fetter. WuFei's eyes were wide with astonishment as Treize's strong hands twisted the metal enough to slip his ankle free.

"There will still be times when you will need to wear an anklet, but only on formal occasions. Find a chain you do like…a small one you can remove yourself if you have a mind too. I will not have you beaten or maimed on a whim--Any of you. Neither will I withhold your meals as punishment. I have invested quite a bit of money in you all, I intend for you to stay healthy and strong."

"Really?" Duo brightened immediately at the mention of food. He had been fondling a rather large pair of gold etched arm bands. Not just because they were expensive either. He had not liked the way the master pushed WuFei backwards on to the table…and he definitely had not liked the other boy's reaction. He had seen enough of such things in the alleys and they invariably ended badly.

If either of the men had decided to…do something unseemly, Duo could have used the beautiful ornaments to kill them. He had no doubt he would have joined them shortly in Hades but the self-styled Shinigami had weighed the option none the less. Then the man's words and actions forestalled that line of thought…and things finally seemed to be looking up.

"Really!" Master Khushrenada confirmed. "I'll want you to work hard of course. You will all be required to do things you've likely never done before. Mine is a small estate and I require my staff to be versatile but there is no reason to make you uncomfortable. That is why I brought you to pick your own gear instead of having M'lord Zechs or my self do so. If you want those armlets Duo, you may have them. Quatre you may wear what ever colors or styles you feel comfortable in. And that goes for the rest of you too.

"Heero and Triton," he began and the two boys looked up a bit startled. The master Lanista had made it clear they were to be sparring partners not competitors and they had been trying to adjust to the change by going over the details of their recent battle as they looked over the table of fighting leathers.

The ginger-blond smiled so the two fighters would know he was not angry that they had been talking…In fact he was proud that they were willing to set their differences aside so quickly. "You will not spend all your time training for the arena," He told them. "There is no reason you must wear leathers all the time. The seasons are changing I want you to be comfortable, get some tunics and trews or whatever you like. All of you—" He poignantly made eye contact with each of the boys, "—indulge yourselves a little. If you need, or want, anything and don't have the necessary vouchers tell me. You will find I can be very accommodating."

Accommodating…the young beast-tamer studied his new master intently before speaking, when he did his voice was quiet, "There IS one indulgence I would ask. Name me Trowa, if it pleases you. Not Triton." He bit his lip and peered out from behind his long fringe of hair nervously.

The ginger-haired man's eyes widened with surprise. "You wish to take your former master's name lad? I hadn't realized you were that close to him. I am sorry for your loss." Treize was confident he could see to the appropriate paperwork. It was the least he could do knowing the boy had witnessed the man's death.

Trowa Barton had belonged to one of the old senatorial families…one of the 'Fellows' of Rome so he and Treize moved in the same circles. Truthfully he had not known Trowa all that well; the man's sister, Leia, now that was a different matter. After the festival of Bacchanalia Mistress Barton and about twelve of her frenzied Bacchae associates connived to waylay Treize on the road. The Barton's were dangerously ambitious and Treize worried for the child that had resulted from that brief encounter. Mariemaia was a precocious child to be sure due to the Barton influence. They had not taken it well when he had claimed her after her mother's death. In light of than animosity Treize could not help but wonder just what relationship the young beast-tamer had had with his former dominus.

Perhaps the green-eyed youth had some notion what his new master was contemplating and he was sure to clarify, "I hardly knew him, and never saw him outside the ring." The boy shrugged. "But I am what he has made me." The truth was, if young Barton had not recognized his potential in the beast-ring he would have remained a nameless Retarii.

Trowa understood Hero's single-minded drive to fight all too well. He still felt the tug of it on his soul. But the course of his destiny had changed when he learned he was capable of more than watering the unforgiving sand of the arena with blood. It was true he hadn't known his master all that well but owed his life to the man and keeping his memory alive was the least he could do. "I think he might have been murdered." The young beast trainer admitted quietly.

"Murdered?" Zechs latched onto the word, his shoulders suddenly sprang back as he visibly shifted from thinking like an ex-arena fighter to thinking like a Praetorian Guard. "I thought he was mauled by a bear are you suggesting he was already dead?"

"No, I am suggesting Ursus was in the same condition as Hero was when he attacked… likely for the same reason. I knew that animal as Master Barton did. It was a performer not a killer. It was trained to attack only on command. There were others I would believe were maddened enough to kill. My master would have been more careful around them, he was taken by surprise and the beast did not know me when I tried to call him back. By killing it I destroyed any evidence, but I had no choice. I couldn't let it..." he shook his head ruefully; lost again in images of blood, death and the unspeakable need to keep those dripping fangs as far away from Catherine as was possible.

"Didn't they call you to testify in the inquiry?" The soldier asked.

"If the bear was not at fault I would be the next prime suspect. I'm lucky they didn't demand my head for his. But I didn't do it, I promise." Trowa did not add that if he had wanted the man dead he would not have been careless enough to endanger the lives of others as well.

"I believe you Trowa lad." Treize squeezed the youth's arm gently. The Barton's have a history of bad politics. Trowa had enemies…As do I, I'm afraid. That is one reason I wanted to add two more fighters to my household. I'll need you to keep an eye out for similar treachery."

"Three," WuFei admitted quietly. "Three fighters, you have freed me from those dratted bells, if you face me in honorable combat, I will fight for you there after." He promised hoping the man would take him at his word. He knew slaves of his stripe were hardly permitted edged utensils to eat with. But somehow he hoped this master would accept he had more uses than keeping house and painting pictures of things no one this side of the mountains had ever seen; not that he minded practicing his calligraphy mind you, but his hand itched to hold a blade again.

Watching the gladiators fight woke the warrior spirit within him once again and though he had heard Quatre's admonishment to duo. He hoped the removal of the bell was a sign that his situation was improving. Surely mighty Shenlong had seen his master's spirit enter the realm of the jade emperor. That being the case his loyalty would be known in the heavens.

"All right," Duo admitted, "If Chang is going to let the cat out of the bag then, I as well do the same." Duo sighed, "I honor the god of death and I don't lie. If you keep your word and care for us, like you said, I'll save your tail when trouble comes. But I warn you, if you prove false then all bets are off."

Treize raised an oddly forked eyebrow at the boy's bluntness but let it pass, All he had to do was prove he was honorable, and if that meant sparring with the eastern boy and seeing that the thief was fed then that he could do. "So that is four fighters?" he clarified hardly daring to trust his luck. "Can we make it five?" he asked turning his attention to the little blond.

Quatre looked uncomfortable clutching a soft lilac-colored robe to his chest. He frowned, and chose his words with great care. "Excellency, I have always been told it is unseemly for a slave to have knowledge of knives. But I expect you are well aware of who held my papers prior to sale. I was Lady Catalonia's cupbearer; Poison is not the only threat I am trained to guard against."

"Brilliant!" Treize smiled, he suspected his unconventional Cousin had schooled the little blond in many 'non-traditional' arts, the boy's cautious answer confirmed that theory.

"Now all of you finish selecting your things quickly. I want to get you boys home, before the auctioneer decides I didn't pay enough for the lot of you.

"Then we can eat…right? You DID promise." Duo reminded.

"Yes Duo, then we can eat." The noble's stomach growled noisily at the suggestion and everyone laughed. Even Heero seemed a bit more cheerful about his new situation as he draped a fine linen cloak about his shoulders and pinned it there with a silver brooch. Perhaps their new master was right…perhaps there was more to life that simply staying alive. It would be interesting to find out just what this 'mission' entailed.

Section Eight Notes:

Bacchus/Dionysus was a powerful fertility god. Greek god of wine was also viewed as the promoter of civilization, a lawgiver, and lover of peace and a patron deity of agriculture and the theatre. His prime role however is as Liberator (Eleutherios), freeing one from one's normal self, by madness, ecstasy, or wine. His feast, the Bacchanalia was introduced into Rome (200 B.C.) It was held in secret groves and attended by women March 16 and 17. Subsequently men were introduced into the rites and celebrations took place five times a month.

This seemed a good setting to preface the birth of Mariemaia. I'm not suggesting Treize would be a willing participant simply that he was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Many crimes were committed during Bacchanalia it was also gave rise to an environment that bred political conspiracies.

Trews are loose trousers with a drawstring waist introduced in Rome by the northern tribes. Roman writers (Seneca or Tacitus?) complained of the fact that their people were adopting northern 'barbaric' styles of the Franks and Goths. It is strange to think waist-length shirts and long pants were thought of as being too revealing. Especially considering the alternative was essentially a knee length shirt and underwear. Trousers were introduced into Western European culture at several points in history, but have only became the standard clothing for males since the 16th century. In ancient China, trousers were only worn by cavalry. According to tradition, they were first introduced by King Wu of Zhao in 375 BC, who copied the custom from non-Chinese horsemen on his northern border.

Cupbearer- A cup-bearer was an officer of high rank in royal courts, whose duty it was to serve the wine at the noble's table. On account of the constant fear of plots and intrigues, a person must be regarded as thoroughly trustworthy to hold this position. He must guard against poison in his master's cup, and was sometimes required to swallow some of the wine before serving it. The Royal cupbearer often had confidential relations with the king often endeared him to his sovereign and also gave him a position of great influence. Quatre's gift of strategy would be valuable in this position.


	9. Primere Premises

Section Nine: Primer Premises

The city of Rome was an ordered giant. All the roads, apartment houses, businesses and open areas conformed to the strict street grid. The massive wall encompassed the whole protecting and regulating the movement of its people. But Nobles were not confined to this artificial world. Duo peered through the narrow slats that ringed the sides of the master's cart as it bumped along the crowded streets.

Oxen with their large sweeping horns, bellowed incessantly jostling against one another as their keepers tried to drive them, and the carts they pulled, through the throng of heavy foot traffic. The press tried to give way before them however. Treize sat astride his horse, an island of calm in the turmoil. His high stepping stallion steadily cleared a path for Zechs and their horse-drawn cart to follow.

The young thief had picked the lock to the rolling cage four times now. The first time had been at Master Treize's request…and Duo had actually been nervous performing under that watchful gaze. His face had reddened when normally dexterous fingers fumbled at something he had always considered as easy as breathing. Duo knew he could open the gate at the back of the wagon any time he wanted.

Master Treize and M'lord Zechs knew it too. Interestingly enough they had not cautioned him against trying it. Duo had honestly expected the large blond to beat him within an inch of his life as a warning of what would happen if he tried to escape. The young thief expected to have his wrists shackled or at least bound before being tossed in the cart with the others. But, neither Zechs nor Treize had so much as threatened him. It would have been so simple to disappear into the crowded city, but this time Duo had no intention of running off.

The pace of their carriage quickened now as it turned onto one of the main Roman roads that stretched the length and breadth of this magnificent empire. Duo's blood quickened within him as they passed beyond the towering city gates and out into the countryside. He had never ventured beyond the most crowded parts of the city and His amethyst eyes were wide, eagerly drinking in everything he saw. Heero was apparently asleep, and Trowa looked as if he were about to drop off any minute. Quatre gave him a slight smile and WuFei scowled, but it seemed that was his normal demeanor.

It was not a particularly long journey to the Villa Khushrenada. Master Treize rode ahead to meet with some of his villagers before returning to the house. Zechs went more slowly with the heavy wagon. In the city, buildings huddled together in rigid ranks like centurions on parade. Narrow alleys and multi-storied buildings crowded out the sky. Beyond the town occasional olive trees and date palms were the only sentinels flanking the wide stone road. The sun seemed brighter here, reflecting off the rolling green hills and fields yellow with grain. The turquoise sky seemed larger too stretching far as the eye could see.

Small villages were scattered amid fields of green. Shaggy houses with thatched roofs settled like sheep on scattered hilltops. From time to time Zechs would half turn in the driver's seat to point out the various aspects of the Khushrenada holdings. At the sound of his voice, the gladiators roused themselves to get a better view of their master's estate; the vineyard followed by an irrigated garden to the left. In the valley by the lake grew a willow plantation. On the hillside was an olive orchard. Beyond it stretched several large meadows where cows, sheep and horses grazed. There was grain land, forest and secondary vineyard trained on trees. Treize met back up with them just the road plunged through an ancient acorn wood.

When the forest receded the slaves got their first glimpse of the villa itself. It was huge. Quatre informed the others that something of that size could cost as much as two million Denarii. Treize half-heartedly tried to deny the fact. In fact he was rather impressed that the blonde had come up with an accurate assessment so quickly.

Duo could not even comprehend that much money but the gladiators were notably impressed. Nothing impressed WuFei or so he liked to pretend.

The truth was the grandiose scale of construction seemed imposing and made young Asian feel small and insignificant. In _Chang'an_ the architecture was impressive but made of wood rather than stone and the common style used bright colors and carving made it seem even more delicate. Stone work was not unheard of course but it was used mostly in temple construction. This was just…different.

WuFei tried to take comfort in the knowledge that his people had erected the most impressive architectural achievement ever imagined. Two hundred years ago, Emperor Shi Huangdi proved the superiority of Chang'an even while protecting its people from the marauding hordes of the north. His wall would stand as a testament to the greatness of the true Empire in the east for as long as the rivers will flow and as long as the clouds cast their shadows on the land.

WuFei Chang traveled extensively with his former master but he had never seen the Great Wall that stretched from the Yalu River in the northeast to Xinjiang in the northwest and now, he never would. 'It must be truly spectacular,' He told himself but as the cart drew up beside the residence and passed between stately columns topped by arches of rose marble the boy had to admit that even 'barbarians' were capable of creating things of surpassing beauty.

Treize disappeared into the house leaving his captain with instructions for seeing the boys around. "This is the _Vestibulum_," Zechs explained to the new slaves as he released them from the wagon. The five boys gazed around the open courtyard, it was bordered on three sides by the walls of the residence and the street was behind them on the forth. The 'U' shaped dwelling was far longer than it was tall--only two stories topped with curved clay roof tiles that nestled carefully one within the next looking like fish scales.

Duo could not help but compare the huge mansion to apartment buildings in the city. Some might be twice as high but they were narrow and could house as many 12 families, while this belonged to just one. The urchin knew all too well how sickness and _plaga_ could breed in those crowded and dismal slums. It seemed harmless at first; headache, restlessness. But then it got worse; body ache, fever, rash, stomach cramps, in ability to keep down food. Those afflicted would writhe uncontrollably, blood marking their lips as they heaved.

The image haunted him still. Duo had begged the god of death to bring them peace, and the lord of the underworld listened to his cries. The cost was high. In a single weeks time he lost everyone he cared about, and everyone who had cared about him. Then the soldiers ruthlessly cleansed the district with fire to appease the gods who caused the pestilence, leaving the few survivors with nothing at all, not even the simplest token to remember those who had passed onto the next world. The memory made his chest tight and he sniffed disconsolately.

"The wing on the left is the _Villa Rustica"_ Zech's explained, _"_That is where the stables, hospital, and guard room are located. Your quarters will be on the second floor. The wing on the right houses the master's office, guest rooms, storage rooms, kitchen and common dining room. The central portion is the _Villa Urbana_ that is the main house which is where the family resides."

"Where do you stay?" Wufei asked with a sever frown.

"In the guard room right down the hall from the rest of you," the soldier met the boy's challenge with an iron glare. "Don't get any ideas about causing trouble, I won't stand for it." Then in a more conversational tone Zechs continued, "In most noble houses slaves spend most of their time in the lesser wings but master Treize isn't like most masters…I expect you may have already figured that out. In any case he wants you to get the full tour. Lunch should be ready by the time we are finished." The long-haired soldier directed the last comment to Duo who grinned wolfishly at the mere suggestion of food.

The massive double doors of the main house open into a wide hallway Zechs referred to as _"the Ostium."_ WuFei wished he had more time to examine the mosaic floor or the murals painted on the walls but the soldier lead them through a door into the atrium.

The eastern youth caught his breath, Sunlight filtered through a hole in the roof the walls were rose marble and living roses grew woven into delicate arbors of wrought iron. Doorways in the second floor opened onto balconies on the right and left side looking down into the atrium. In the midst of the garden was a cistern where rainwater collected and lay mirror like reflecting the peace of the place.

"Like a prayer garden" WuFei reflected though he hadn't much hope that a simple slave would be permitted the luxury of its use. An arcaded hall lead to a larger garden "the _Peristylium" _which was surrounded by a colonnade of arches and contained more decorative shrubs flowers and a small fountain guarded by a statue of a majestic eagle with its wings partially furled as if it were a heartbeat away from taking flight.

There was also a young girl six or seven years-of-age reclining on a marble bench near the statue. She nibbled on the end of an ivory stylus. A tablet made of wooden panels covered with a thin coating of wax lay discarded by her feet. "Mistress Mariemaia," Zechs introduced.

"Oh, you are back!" the girl announced. Her short strawberry blond hair ice-blue eyes and noble bearing marked her close kin to master Treize; a hypothesis Zech's words confirmed, "Your father has returned as well," The soldier told her sternly. "He will expect to see your lessons."

"I hate math, grandfather says it isn't fitting to be as educated as father is making me." She sighed forlornly and retrieved the wax tablet and an abacus that had fallen behind the bench. She rolled her eyes and slid the brightly colored beads from one side of the counting frame to the other mentally tabulating the figures.

"Your father only wants what is best for you…If we were to listen to your grandfather you would not only miss learning reading, writing and numbers you'd be forbidden astronomy, geography, rhetoric and tactics. Is that truly what you want? I'm sure Senator Barton would happily suggest a tutor to teach you to spin, weave, and sew."

"No." the child scowled darkly and sighed.

"We will leave you to it." Zechs announced with a formal bow then turned to lead the five young men through a maze of rooms, each furnished with tasteful splendor.

"I expect SHE is going to be MY responsibility." Wufei frowned but it was more pretext than anything else. As duties went, being a tutor was certainly not the worst he could wish for and she seemed to have the required drive. The young scholar would have to be sure the master knew he had mastered the Roman numerals some time ago.

Although the design of the counting tool the girl was using was a little different than what he was accustomed to it was still based on a bi-quinary coded decimal system. The grooves I indicated units, X tens, and so on up to millions. The beads in the shorter grooves denoted V fives—five units, five tens etc. Passing from room to room WuFei noted other familiar things here and there. Curtains, rugs, pillows and screens from the orient, jade figures, carved furniture bedecked with precious stones and seashells as well as the expected ivory glass his imported from the west.

Trowa and Heero wished to linger in the vestibule inspecting the marble sculptures of Khushrenada's noble ancestors and stands displaying weapons and armor in styles ranging the length and breadth of the empire. On the walls were exquisite tapestries depicting all forms of battle—including combat in the arena. On a podium in one corner lay two beautifully worked laurels, one wreath was gold the other silver. They could be none other that the victory prizes of an Olympian.

Noting the boy's interest Zechs smiled proudly. "Master Treize has competed twice in the games. The silver was for the javelin when he was eighteen and last year he took full-honors as a charioteer. He was magnificent, the emperor was impressed."

"Hardly," Treize snorted, having entered unnoticed from the doorway at the opposite side of the room. "My family bred horses for generations; the true skill goes into training them. Any fool can win with a good team to pull him along."

"They don't hand out laurels to just any fool." Heero frowned.

"But he is OUR fool…and we're HIS team." Quatre hugged himself in excitement. As soon as the words were out of his mouth the blond realized what he had just implied—What a horrible lapse in decorum! He covered his mouth with moth hands and regarded his master with wide cerulean eyes. He had been beaten for less. This was not a good way to begin serving in a new household, especially if you had a track-record like he did. He felt his knees quake.

Treize only laughed, it was a hearty genuine laugh that made his eyes sparkle merrily. "Move on through to the dining room, lunch has been set." He announced then added, "I want you to eat your fill. After all, a team can't perform if it is under fed now can they." He winked and Quatre blushed.

Section Nine notes:

Roman roads First the two parallel trenches were built on either side of the planned road, with the resulting earthworks, stone, etc., being dumped and built up in the space between the two ditches. this formed a raised area 6 ft. (1.8 m) high and 50 ft. (15 m) wide. Down the middle was a shallow 8 to 10 foot wide depression edged with kerb stones to hold the entire construction in place. The center road surface consisted of a 'metalled' surface (ie gravel or pebbles) on a solid foundation of earth or stone.

Farming: Cicero considered farming the best of all Roman occupations, he writes in On Duties "But of all the occupations by which gain is secured, none is better than agriculture, none more profitable, none more delightful, none more becoming to a freeman the layout of the farm was taken from Cato's boot De Agricultura from the second century BC. The Romans had four systems of farm management: 1) direct work by owner and his family 2) slaves doing work under supervision of slave managers 3) a sort of tenant or sharecropping practice, the owner and a tenant dividing up farm's produce 4) farm leased to a tenant. Treize utilized the third method.

Horses were not important to Roman farmers, most were raised by the rich for racing or war.

Great wall of China, just as described. Systematic work on the wall was begun about 221 BC, after Shi Huangdi had united China under his rule, and it was finished about 204 BC. Small sections of the wall were probably already in existence, but Shi Huangdi is supposed to have had some nearly 1,200 miles of the wall erected during his reign.

Plague was common in the ancient world. One of the worse incidents of plague during this period is known today as the Athenian plague which was rampant 430-26 B.C. In "_History of the Peloponnesian War" _Thucydides, who was himself a survivor of the plague recorded his experience so others would recognize the symptoms and know what to expect. He considered sickness a natural occurrence but most believed it was retribution of an angry god.

Roman Villas were the usual accommodation for Upper class, wealthy Roman Citizens in the countryside around Rome and throughout the Empire. From this focal point radiated rural farms which were managed by and sustained the appetites of the noble class. They are mostly as described. The windows of rooms in upper stories were not supplied with glass until the time of the Empire. They were merely openings in the wall, covered with lattice-work. Windows facing into the gardens brought light into the main rooms from above; the side rooms received their light from these, and not through windows looking into the street.

Education: About 200 BC, the Romans borrowed some of the ancient Greek system of education. Although they did not add many subjects, they did begin sending their boys, and some of their girls, with their father's permission, to school at age 6 or 7.

Mariemaia was of course and extraordinary child and her father taught her things he found interesting whether or not it was considered suitable to do so.

Noble children, educated in the home, were normally taught by intelligent and gifted slaves. They studied reading, writing, and counting. They read scrolls and books. They wrote on boards covered with wax, and used pebbles or counting frames to do math problems. They were taught Roman numerals, and recited lessons they had memorized.

Abacus or counting frame: long before there were computers or even calculators the abacus was normal tool of calculation. In ancient Rome, as in Greece, the tally was kept by moving counters on a smooth table. Originally pebbles called 'calculi' were used. Later the pebbles were replaced by beads mounted in slots or strung on wires in a frame. The abacus was also used in ancient China. It was called a 'Suanpan' and was first mentioned in a book written by Xu Yue in the Eastern Han Dynasty. The exact design of the suanpan is not known but would have been a familiar tool during this period.


	10. A Matter of Taste

Section Ten: A Matter of Taste

The _triclinia_ was the formal dining room. The walls were decorated with grand frescoes depicting serene scenes of the countryside one wall had a realistic image of Diana goddess of the hunt chasing a stag through the woods. There were several low tables surrounded on three sides by couches, known as klinai, where diners could recline on pillows as they ate. The fourth side was open allowing the servers easy access to serve each course of the meal. There were accommodations for nine to twenty guests.

None of the slaves expected to be served. As a rule they ate standing or crouched in some out of the way corner. Treize didn't mind if they reclined in the normal fashion and said as much, but he didn't want them to feel uncomfortable either. To accommodate them he had two high tables set up by the window that opened into the back garden and both were practically full to bursting with a wide assortment of food. Zechs handed each of the boys a wooden plate and told them to help themselves while He filled one plate for himself and one for Treize who was already reclining in the place of honor at the head table sipping a glass of wine and watching to see what his servants would do.

Zechs had told him that Heero and Trowa would be wearing transport chains clipped to their collars for the trip to the villa. Treize didn't like the thought of keeping the boys leashed like beasts but he had agreed that seeing to the needs of the gladiators was Zechs responsibility. Now he was surprised that they were not only still chained but that WuFei and Quatre respectively retained possession of the loose ends of the leash just as they had, at Zechs command, before the fight.

Neither boy was being overbearing about it. In fact, it looked as if WuFei had forgotten all together that, the loop of Heero's lead was still tucked beneath his belt. Quatre was a bit more contentious about his charge, touching Trowa's arm to guide him more often than not. When confronted with the tables of food the two house slaves went to take their share first before their charges moved to do so.

Treize had asked cook to set out an assortment of _gustatios_ (appetizers) and as usual the woman had outdone herself. Quatre was drawn immediately to the fruit taking a generous portion of grapes, figs, apples and apricots though he avoided the pomegranates. WuFei chose brown bread spread with hummus made from lentils and chick peas. Next he chose a selection of fruits and nuts along with several thick slices of pork. Both boys ladled themselves a cup of the hearty stewed vegetables in goose broth.

The two house slaves ate slowly, meticulously, carefully consuming as much as they could without making themselves sick. This calculation told Treize that both boys had, at some point in their experience, met with owners that were hap-hazard about feeding their slaves. Treize had been appalled by the practice.

The young noble had never been so ashamed as the time he been when been guest at an associate's wedding feast. He had been halfway through the third course and called for more wine only to realize the slave serving table was practically faint from hunger. The boy's stomach nearly clung to his backbone because of the deprivation. Upon further inspection he found all the man's slaves were in similar condition, so terrified of punishment they did not even dare to steal scraps from the master's table with which to break their fast.

Bridegroom or no, Treize had flown at the man in blind fury at the injustice of the situation…and earned himself yet another enemy among the senatorial ranks. Treize was determined that none of HIS people would ever suffer such want.

Duo, for one, was clearly impressed by the spread cook had provided, "Are you sure this is ALL for us?" he asked for the fourth time.

"I promised I'd feed you didn't I?" Treize smiled at the braided boy.

"Yeah, but I didn't expect ya to cook up the entire contents of a stall in the marketplace…or two!" Violet eyes sparkled as he sampled a little of each delicacy. Many of the things he'd never even seen before. Those he nibbled almost mouse like, till he decided whether he liked it or not. The face he made after eating pickled olives then trying the pomegranate was comical in the extreme. Treize tried hard not to laugh. He was glad to see many of the delicacies appealed to the street boy and, unlike WuFei and Quatre, Duo was not reluctant to take a heartier scoop of those that appealed to him.

"You boys are all too thin. You'll need energy if you are to work for me. And eating gives you that. I won't skimp when it come to feeding my team." The noble reassured them.

WuFei raised an eyebrow at the braided boy's overstuffed plate. "Eat too much and you'll be sick," He cautioned quietly.

"Oh Wuffers, I've eaten myself sick before. Solo used to say I put the gorge in gorgeous." Duo flipped his long chestnut tail over his shoulder and fluttered his long eyelashes coquettishly. "It'll take more than a tummy ache to kill me." The boy joked easily.

WuFei showed his dislike of the nickname, and the youth that dared attach it to him, by turning his back on the braided baka. He had only been trying to be helpful after all. There was no reason for the boy to insult him, or to act like an insufferable onna about it. He sniffed disdainfully.

Heero did understand what Duo was trying to do either. He frowned in confusion and gave the boy an "I can kill you," glare.

But the urchin shrugged it off with a crooked smile. "Hay, there are plenty of worse ways to go then death by overindulgence in…what is this sticky stuff?"

"Quince Marmalade." Quatre volunteered, taking another slice of bread slathered with the sweet preserve for himself. As he regarded the laughing boy he caught a cold gleam in Duo's violet eyes that sent a shiver down his spine. Beneath that clownish mask was a deep sadness and unspeakable pain. The young blond recalled how, in the cell, the braided boy had called himself 'the god of death.' Now, seeing 'that look' in those eyes, Quatre reflected how very little he actually knew about his four companions.

"Nummy." Duo said licking the sweet nectar off his fingers. He had been touched by the foreign boy's concern but it frightened him to. His thoughts slipped too easily into the past. 'Don't care about me!' his mind shrieked, 'don't make me care about you.' And then he was lost, cradling Solo's emaciated body in his lap trying get the elder boy sip some rainwater from a cracked cup. He had to keep—these people—at arms length. He HAD to! He couldn't let himself care for them. He couldn't risk it. Not even Shinigami was strong enough to survive that kind of pain again. 'Yes' Duo thought darkly 'there are plenty of things worse than overeating.'

Heero and Trowa were the last to fill their plates. Each took a piece of fruit and a cup of broth. Then their attention was drawn immediately round flat slices of something dark and vaguely bread-like sitting at the far end of the last table. They each appropriated a thick slice and promptly devoured it.

"Told you so." Zechs smirked as he handed a heavily laded plate to his ginger-haired lord before taking a place on the couch with his own plate, a plate which, Treize noted, also contained one of the dark rounds of_ Botulus_.

Treize sighed. As far as he was concerned _Botulus_ was one of the most disgusting culinary experiments ever conceived. It was blood-sausage and represented one of the staples of every gladiator's diet. Treize had wanted to treat the boys to something special, offer them the best their new situation had to offer. But, his warrior companion insisted he include the savory patties for 'his' gladiators.

Zech's knew from experience that given a choice of surprising verity, gladiators would invariably go with what they know. Many Lanista's made a great show of wining and dining their victorious fighters especially before a major fight. It was called _Coena Libera_ or "the last meal." Warriors stuffed themselves so much that dinner could last for hours. Moreover, they were always advised to chew their food well in order to extract the maximum energy from it...but, more often than not, Gladiators unaccustomed to such largess were violently ill the next day—If they lived that long.

Botalis was a rich and hearty meal. It helped build muscle and keep them strong. Blood was thought to make them ferocious fighters, milk was to ensure obedience to their keepers, Barley was for strength and stamina. Mix it with some stale bread and a bit of mint for flavor then fry it in oil. What more did one require? Zech's smiled and cut himself another slice.

Section Ten Notes:

Food Glorious Food:

What is on the menu? The variety of food stuffs available in Rome is truly extraordinary. Much of it the result of long distance trade throughout the the vast empire. There was pepper, almonds, hazelnuts, stone pine cones, walnuts, coconuts, apricots and peaches besides the more expected figs, raisins and dates. The wine, olive oil and garum (fermented fish sauce) trades were exceptional in leaving stone and pottery amphorae scattered throughout the realm. There is even a mention of trade of quince jam or marmalade from Syria to Rome.

_Botulus_ and _Coena Libera_ Seneca writes: "The gladiators eat and drink what they will give back with their blood" Gladiators were sometimes nicknamed hordearii, which means 'barley eaters." They did eat Botalis but that wasn't the extent of their diet. They were actually treated pretty well and fed a high protein meals at least 3 meals a day. My take is mostly homage to certain pilots' penchant for protein-shakes as I've seen documented in so many fan-fics. It is a well known fact that anyone with a limited diet is likely to get a stomach cramps if they binge. Also like any athlete, Gladiators did not drink wine while training or before a match, only water. They did however snack on goat's milk with honey and walnuts, yum.

Lean your elbow on the couch when you eat. Yes, as described in roman times they ate sitting or leaning on pillows or couches, before low tables not using traditional tables and chairs as we think of them.

Quick Author note: due to some last minute shuffling and rewrite some things I mentioned in responses to reviewers as being in this chapter are actually in the next one, I had to split them so I could work out a hitch in the plot. Fan-fic is fluid after all, Sorry this one is a bit short don't worry though, the next section is well under way and will be up, posthaste.


	11. Irregular Regulations

Section Eleven: Irregular Regulations

"Well lads, you have got the rest of today to get settled in." Treize told them after they eaten their fill. "Tomorrow we will see about assigning you duties. As you can expect it takes a great deal of effort to keep an estate this side functioning. I am still somewhat new to the position. My father, senator Khushrenada, kept the estate fully manned by slaves. Most were freed in his will. The rest I saw manumitted or transferred when I turned 20 and took up my title. I would have done it sooner but the law wouldn't allow it."

Quatre's eyes widened. He knew the laws of _Lex Fufia Caninia_ restricted the number of slaves in a household that could be granted freedom and the age at which a lord could choose to do so. A master who had three slaves could free only two; one who had between four to ten could free only half of them; one with eleven to thirty could free only a third…and so on. That Master Treize would dispense with the rest of his father's people while simultaneously trying to learn to manage his estate seemed strange to say the least.

Treize took note of the slave's quizzical expression. "No, I am not crazy, neither am I expecting to have you five run my entire _fundus_ (estate)." The noble arched his back and regarded each of the five young men along with his captain. "Neither am I saying you couldn't if you had a mind to. Only that it isn't necessary. Under my father's reign we had over a hundred slaves and employed fifty-some freedmen and peasant from the village to till the soil and maintain the crops and livestock."

Again Quatre's jewel-bright eyes widened. "N-n ot even Master Dermil keeps that many." He faltered, unable to stop himself. His face reddened in embarrassment. Slaves were NEVER supposed to compare masters. What happened in the house of his former mistress and master took place during a different lifetime. It could have no bearing on the present. Slaves were schooled to accept that fact.

Treize didn't scold him for the laps though. He shook his head. "You are right." The master admitted. "Even as a boy, I could not help but know the number was excessive. What is worse I saw it created something of a hardship for the people living here about. In short, there was no paying work. I knew just how many people would have gone hungry if not for the law of _Annona (grain-dole)_ by which my father was required to provide for the destitute.

I continue this practice as the emperor commands…but more importantly, I employ my people and try to see the grain subsidies and funds go to those that truly need them. There are a large number of people who work part-time on the estate and all but a few rotate through rather quickly. I don't expect you to remember names, M'lord never can." He smirked at the blond soldier. Zechs shifted from one foot to the other under the weight the noble's seemingly playful gaze. Treize continued, "I have found most of the villagers actually enjoy working on the estate and so far I have little need for slaves."

"So why do buy us then?" WuFei scowled.

"Don't worry. I have plans in mind for each of you. As you and Quatre are literate one of your duties will be to assist me in handing out those subsidies. It is something I can't expect the locals to do without showing favoritism. Since, as slaves, you are not troubled by outside allegiances. As much as I like and respect the villagers, they are outsiders. I permit them the use of my land and resources but I do not, can not, trust them.

In my service you will be expected to be versatile. If you would like suggest other duties you would be interested in, I am willing to listen.

"I can…" Duo began softly, then his violet-gaze turned away and he didn't finish the thought.

Treize had superior hearing and he did not miss hesitating words. He leaned in, touching the braided boy's chin, if it had been any of the others he knew they would wince at a master's touch, but not Duo. The noble gently lifted the boy's chin so he could meet those incandescent eyes. "Yes, what is it?" he encouraged.

"I could help." Duo bit his bottom lip apprehensively. "I-I, I mean I can't read nor write none, but I can tell when someone is lying, S' why I don't ever do it myself." He shook his head slightly "The god of death doesn't tolerate liars."

"That is right; I had forgotten Orcus is your patron," Treize nodded at the recollection. Then his mellow voice practically purred as he considered the ramifications, "That will be very useful I am sure of it."

With that, Treize turned again to his captain. "Zechs inform them of the rules and see they have free reign of the property the rest of today, I have work to do."

"Of course sir." he snapped a closed fist to his chest in formal salute. Treize knew the other man well enough to translate the wordless rebuke. "Don't worry my friend, I'll take a break a little later." He said as he strolled through the door leading to the _tablinum_, where the family and Estate records were kept.

After Treize had gone some of the kitchen staff arrived to clear away the tables. Zechs led the boys into the _oeci_ (reception rooms) so as not to disturb the women. With hands folded behind his back he began:

"Your duty, above all, is to protect Master Treize and Miss Mari. If a situation arises where they are threatened, their safety always comes before your own. I do not ask you to do anything I would not do my self. You will respect him in all things. You will conduct yourselves as responsible individuals. You will do as you are asked promptly and to the best of your ability."

"I think you have already seen Treize prefers to do without the usual formality between master and slave. In private you are free to speak to either of us about anything and are, in fact, encouraged to do so. In public however, you will use only formal forms of address and perform proper obeisance when summoned. Not a full floor-hugging-grovel, mind you. The Emperor alone disserves such regard. For a lesser man to demand it abases him as much as it does the slave."

Zechs took a deep breath before continuing, his eyes turned cold and hard. Zech never once raised his voice above velvety-growl but his steel-blue gaze pinned each boy like a fly in a spider's web.

"Always be mindful that there are consequences for your actions. Neither Treize nor I want to see you harmed in any way. But DO NOT attempt to take advantage of that charity. You have seen I am well skilled in the use of the whip. I have been on both the giving and receiving ends of the lash more times than I care to remember; having said that, you will refrain from doing ANYTHING that will reflect badly on Master Treize."

"Our master is a fine and noble man. DO NOT break his trust. If you willfully damage his property or try to run off I will be required to punish you. I will be greatly displeased if you force my hand. You DO NOT want to see me displeased. Do you understand?"

Zech's icy gaze did not relent till each one had nodded their assent. There was no doubt in any of their minds that full grown legionary guards tremble in the face of this noble barbarian. It was easy to see the god of thunder in his features. Be he Jupiter, the father of Rome, or the barbarian, Thor, Duo could almost imagine this man was his close kin. In his mind's eye Duo saw Zech's long blond hair teased out from his shoulders, crackling with the electricity of the coming storm.

But as quick as it had come, the storm that darkening those striking features passed away. "That is it then, I'll say no more about it." M'lord Zechs smiled and it was as if the sun shone once again. "Heero, Trowa, come to me," He directed.

The two gladiators exchanged glances uncertainty. They had spoken the vow taking Treize as their _dominus_ and Zechs as_ lanista,_ but most owners did not consider this adequate 'protection' against slaves trained to kill. Neither had spent any great length of time beyond the walls of their respective _ludi _and the arena complex. Each wondered what further restrictions would be placed on them because of their status.

But the blond soldier knew the ways of the arena. He had lived under the lash and he knew the power of a gladiator's vow. With a deft movement he unclipped the chain from each boy's collar replacing it with an unbelievable thin chord that went from the collar ring under one arm, loosely across the back under the other arm and clipped back to the ring in a loose loop.

It hindered their movement not at all. In fact it felt some what, comforting. Without any chain at all a gladiator tended to feel…a bit naked. "A symbol of trust—" Zechs said, "—and a reminder of that we do not want you fighting each other excepting to spar. You aren't competitors you are teammates."

"Understood" Heero acknowledged.

Trowa only nodded. The green-eyed lad recalled countless hours chained in his lonely cell in the Circus Maximus. In the darkest hours of the night Catherine would sing. And he would sit, straining with all his might, to hear the young acrobat's song. Her crystal voice evoked shadowy dreams of freedom; Freedom from the ring, freedom from the endless cycle of death that seeped into all facets of life in the arena. Triton's only joy had been in caring for the animals…and even then he knew that more often than not he was only training them to die. It was the weight of that knowledge that kept him silent and brooding, while others easily spoke their mind.

This though was another life all together. Even his name was different now, Trowa was just as reticent as Triton had been but he did not brood. Honestly, he was silent not just because he was unaccustomed to conversation, though that was likely the case, More so, he found this 'freedom' somewhat overwhelming.

There was too much he didn't know. So much that was unfamiliar. In this environment the chain was good, he welcomed it. It kept him anchored in the present. It reminded him he was still part of something larger than himself, that outside the ring he still had a purpose.

The boy ran his fingers through his mossy brown bangs and forcibly shook off his musings. Zechs was speaking again and it was never wise to disregard the words of a _lanista_.

"As master Treize said, after you get yourselves situated in the slave quarters you are free to explore the rest of the estate. The bathhouse, gymnasium, forge and menagerie are in a separate building behind the main house. This corridor on the left leads to the back porch and from there, the building is easy to see.

I know how important spending time in the baths is to those of us who have trained in the arena. You…all of you—" the soldier amended, "—are free to use the facilities when your duties permit, the rest of the staff does as well. During the day and in early evening there are villagers on duty there to see to the needs of the bathers. If any of them give you a hard time let me or master Treize." Zech's commanded

"Do you expect us to have trouble sir?" Quatre asked softly. Mistress Dermail had warned him of the public baths. She had said he was 'too pretty a slave' to be left alone around rough men. The little blond had been enslaved enough to know she was right—he had no intention of inviting that kind of attention.

Lady Dorothy had known her grandmother was correct as well but she thought he wasn't taking the prohibition seriously enough. Pure motive, spurring misguided action…that was the Catalonian way; Dorothy attacked him as a way to prove that he was no match for those with ill intent—it was proof that she worried for him.

No one was more surprised than himself when he panicked and defended against that wicked blade. Dorothy said he fought like a tawny wildcat, it was instinctive. Till her knife accidentally caught him in the side, then he recognized just whom he had been attacking. In shock, he folded up like a flower beneath the burning ray of summer.

Of course the injury was an opportunity for the lady to tend him for a change. They had only gotten closer after that, which ultimately raised the master's ire against him. Quatre sighed. It was not unthinkable that he would see Miss Catalonia again.

In fact, as Dorothy was Master Treize's cousin, it was more than likely he would have many opportunities to see her. But that only made the pain worse. He was not part of her household any longer. If she was to recognize him at all, he would be forced to treat her as a stranger. The little blond bit his lip uncertainly.

Zechs had not noticed Quatre's mind had wandered. Instead he was intent on answering the boy's question;

"Everyone knows Master Treize is abundantly protective of his people. None would dare hurt you physically. I am more concerned with the staffs attitude. I had some difficulty a while back when a few of the staff, being freeborn roman citizens, objected to serving a former slave.

I believe Treize handled that issue sufficiently. But there is always the chance someone will take offence that slaves, new to the household, yet are being given positions of trust—promoted as it were over freedmen who have been serving in the villa for years now. If either of these attitudes crop up we want to deal with them before it becomes an issue. Understood?"

Heero snapped to the tone in his _lanista's_ voice "Yes Sir." He responded automatically.

The captain nodded and continued his instructions, "In the baths, Master Treize or I get precedence. We aren't averse to sharing but we generally go to relax so no horseplay when we need peace. Please be courteous to the staff and don't leave the baths looking like there has been an indoor rainstorm. The only time you are barred from using the facilities is when Mistress Mariemaia or any of the other ladies are bathing. There will be a plaque on the bath house door if it is so engaged. They don't usually stay long so just wait your turn."

"Just how many female staffers do we have?" Duo asked pursing his lips in thought and toying with the end of his braid.

"Treize said 'all but a few of the staff rotate through rather quickly' which is why I can't remember their names, how Treize manages to keep them straight I'll never know." The tall man shook his head and shrugged. "But, when either of us mentions 'the ladies' we are usually referring to those that don't rotate out. These few are practically indispensable and you should get to know them."

"First and foremost, Lady Anne is the house steward—I warn you not to get on her bad side. The quickest way to achieve that is to mess up her inventory or steal food; which pretty much amounts to the same thing.

The kitchen is the domain of several dozen mothers in the village that come up in turn. They are the 'cook-staff' all answer to the name 'cook'. If you are hungry ask cook to make you something and she usually will unless she is too busy making the meal—In which case you had better wait. But, if you try to snitch a snack behind her back you will call down the wrath of Ann Une and I tell you SHE can get absolutely wicked with a roasting fork."

Zech's did not even notice he was rubbing his rump in sympathetic memory, but the boys certainly did and even the usually closed-mouthed Trowa had all he could do not to crack a smile.

The memory of the pain took Zechs to the next logical introduction.

"Mistress Po works in the infirmary and serves the local people as well as any of us who get injured. She is very kind and a fair sight better than some field surgeons I knew in the legion. If you aren't well go to her. None of this 'grin and bear it' stuff." The captain directed his gaze most especially to Heero, "We want you in top form. If you aren't we will never fault you for taking the necessary steps to get that way."

"Yes sir." The gladiator nodded in acknowledgement.

Getting gladiator in top form brought Zech's mind back to the baths and from there to the forge which meant…

"Hilde is the local smith she does work for us or any of the people in the village. The forge is attached to bathhouse. She keeps the furnace hot and it runs the boiler; a prime example of a symbiotic relationship if you ask me. Her father Howard thought it up, but he is a tinker by trade so he travels quite a bit. She maintains it in his stead. It is a wonder no one else has ever thought of it. I am sure you will see her around. She works hard and a kind word now and again is usually appreciated."

Zechs couldn't think about 'symbiotic relationships' without mentioning…

"Lady Noin. You may, or may not meet, she is the forest warden. If she is here you will give her utmost respect as she is a—colleague—of mine who won her freedom in the arena about the same time as I did. That about covers it, any questions?" He asked.

"Physician, Steward, Smith, Warden, those do not seem like usual positions for females, either in my culture or yours." WuFei frowned likewise ticking the titles of on his fingers as he said them. "I can understand if there is no male heir to carry on the family occupation I can understand such things…but to let women participate in your blood sports! That is difficult to fathom." The Asian youth shook his head.

"Gladiatrices are rare but there were about a dozen in the ludi at Capua when I was trained. Most are huntresses but they their lanista don't go easy on them because they only battle against each other or in specialty bouts. Noin was one of the best. They are cut from a different cloth. I can not see her being content as a 'demure domestic' any more than the other ladies would. Treize isn't a usual sort of master and isn't afraid to go against convention. If someone has the skills to do something, than he is more than willing to let them try to prove their worth. That is just how he is." Zechs shrugged.

"Is that how a centurion ended up in the arena, or was it the other way around?" Heero asked absently tugging gently at the chord circling his midriff near where it affixed to his collar.

"Master Treize was a _Tribune_ under _Praetorian Praefectus _Catalonia, As such he served as second in command for a cohort of Praetorian guard in the north-western portion of Germania. My Father was a King of the Russ. Our tribe opposed the legion and while neither side won a decisive victory. Hostages were exchanged to assure a mutually beneficial treaty, as is our way. My sister and I were among the hostages responsible for crafting the peace between our peoples. We were separated when I fought with the Legion in Gaul. After that my commander entered me in the arena to teach me discipline. Now I am freedman and I serve Treize without question."

"Treize sent you to the arena?" Trowa asked this time, biting his lip as he considered what it would mean to have the rights of a citizen then to loose them.

"When Duke Dermal learned his son had been killed in battle he had me sent me to the arena," There was a sneer in the bold soldier's voice that belayed what he thought of the aged Senator. "Treize was the one who welcomed me home. He is my friend and I will serve him without question."

Quatre very much wanted to ask if General Catalonia had been killed in the battle with the Russ or later fighting in Gaul. But he the general had been lady Dorthy's father and quatre knew quite well it was not fitting to ask about things relating to your former masters—even if they bring it up. Though on reflection, what he said wasn't much better, "So Master Treize calls you M'lord because you're a barbarian prince?"

Zechs sighed, "Actually my given name is _Seax Mere-Kāser _in the Saxon tongue it means 'Knife of the Sea-king'. Most Roman's try to pronounce it phonetically as 'Zechs Marquis' or change they altogether into the common, 'Marcus Zex' Treize decided to translate '_Mere-Kāser'_ literally as 'Merlord' and it got shortened somewhere along the way. Before you youngsters get any ideas, I'll have you know, despite the hair, I am no mermaid! Just because I accept teasing from Master Treize doesn't mean I'll allow it from you lot. But M'lord Zechs is acceptable and much better than having you mangle it as so many others have."

"The hair!" Duo exclaimed excitedly and hit himself on the forehead. This earned him a strange look from his fellows.

Zechs raised an eyebrow at the braided boy. "Would you care to explain?" he offered.

"Solo said royals of the northern tribes wear their hair long. To cut it cut it is a sign of disgrace. Am I right?"

"You are." Zechs smiled. Not even Treize had understood why his hair was so important to him, But then, the urchin had a rather impressive mane of his own to care for.

Then Duo remembered something else Solo told him about the north tribes "Tell me you don really smear your hair with butter. You can't. Right? I can't imagine anything so disgusting."

Zechs laughed, "Only before battle." He leaned in and gave Duo's braid two slight tugs. "Its not something I've had to do in the legion but when fighting other northern tribes you bet I have. I admit it is not exactly pleasant but it is certainly better than having an enemy pull it out by the roots or worse use it to hold on to while he takes your head." He mimed a chopping motion at his own throat and all the boys shuddered. Suddenly the notion didn't seem so impossible after all.

Section Eleven Notes:

Electricity: I am of course describing static electricity which is a natural occurrence that often precedes storms and would make Zechs fabulous hait stand out in striking relief. But I suspect you may find it interesting to know that the first known battery in the world may have been created as early as 250 B.C. In 1938, a German archaeologist, Wilhelm Konig discovered an unusual stone jar in a Parthian settlement called Khujut Rabu, near modern Baghdad. The earthenware jar about the size of a man's fist has an asphalt stopper, an iron bar and a copper cylinder, that was to have been filled with some unknown liquid. It is not entirely clear that the jar was used as a battery, however that is the common belief. The unmusieum goes so far as to suggest it may have been used for electroplating.

Tinker: a traveling metalsmith.

Women: Under Roman law women went from the authority of their fathers to the authority of their husbands, and even a wealthy, old widow needed a male to supervise her finances, but by the beginning of the First Century women began to achieve greater freedom in practice if not in theory. Outside of the lower classes women could not work but they did not want to do so either.

In fact "work" was seen as something to be done by slaves and low class people who did not know any better. Nevertheless women were demanding and getting greater freedom. Some men objected, of course, but their cries of protest were in vain. Augustus introduced a series of laws to promote traditional values but even he was unable to stem the tide of progress. It is interesting to see the same issues being argued about two thousand years later.

The job _Steward_ (_procurator)_ It was often held by a slave or freed man it was a position of great importance and responsibility. They are the highest person of a household staff, who manages a typically large residence. They also have the authority to acts on behalf of the (often absent) owner and can but and sell things in the masters name. I suppose a more appropriate title in this case would be major-domo (atriensis) though both titles are often considered synonyms.

Female gladiators are depicted in roman archaeology and literature. From the law decrees it appears they were typically from upper-class families seeking thrill and attention. The Larinum decree under Tiberius specifically banned senators' daughters, granddaughters and great-granddaughters, and "any female whose husband or father or grandfather, whether paternal or maternal or brother had ever possessed the right of sitting in the seats reserved for the equites" from training or making paid appearances as gladiators," It seems such a law would have been written with Lady Dorothy in mind.

Rank of command: When Augustus first established the Praetorian Guard he recruited 9 cohorts of about 500 men each, essentially equal to the size of an imperial legion. At first, each cohort was under the command of an Equestrian rank, Tribune, but by the turn of the millennium, Augustus created the overall command position of the Praetorian Praefectus.

Training The Ludi at Capua was where 'Spartacus' the soldier/gladiator/revolutionary was trained in 36BC. Not exactly 'Lake Victoria' but it seemed like a fitting place for Zechs and Noin.

What is in a name? I am somewhat familiar with Anglo-Saxon and don't know anything about German or Russian, though I expect in 12AD the languages were still from the same root. Besides, I thought translating Zechs name that way worked. Yes the bits on early Germanic customs is historically accurate, even the butter—which was generally rancid because they didn't want to waste the good stuff. Shudder.

Germania: The bit about keeping hair long is from a story about a king overthrown by his younger brother. The king and queen were going to loose their life, there was no question, because if they lived they would continue to be a threat. But the two princes were just young boys (under 10). The usurper said he would spare his nephews lives if they submitted to having their blond curls shaved off. The queen said she would rather her son's were dead than forced to live in dishonor, bereft if their birthright and name. If this was the story Solo shared with Duo I could imagine it might make the proud boy, that he is, want to grow his hair, or at least keep from cutting it.


	12. Living Space

Section Twelve: Living Space

After Zechs informed the boys of everything he considered necessary to living in the villa He guided them up the narrow stair to the second floor where the slave quarters were located. The apartments were actually much nicer then any of the five expected. Heero and Trowa especially were accustomed to being kept isolated in small cells, little larger than a horses stall, when they weren't training. But the accommodations in the villa were nothing if not nice. Set apart from the rest of the house, a private retreat from the cares of the day.

The room at the head of the stairs belonged to Zechs himself. As this was the only entry to the top floor of the wing there was no way to sneak out without the soldier knowing. Duo could not resist peeping through the slit in the doorway to survey the organized clutter the 'guard room' contained. Weapons were what he expected…and those were there of course. What he hadn't expected were the books. There were folios of papyrus and vellum, some leather-bound, in the northern fashion, others in tablets or scrolls. They lay scattered across the desk or lay stacked on shelves. This truly was the lair of an exiled prince.

Across the hall from the guard room was a small lavatory and store room. Zechs told them they were welcome to make use of anything in the storeroom so long as they informed him if they noticed something—like candles or coal for the stove—was running low so he could see they were replenished.

In the main house there were plenty of oil lamps, made of bronze or terra-cotta either resting on tables, or were suspended by chains from the ceiling. Candles were less expensive of course but few masters would waste even that on mere slaves. Even in enlightened Chang'an, WuFei had always gone to bed with the sun and rose with it unless he was needed by his master. Not so in this house.

""The staff goes home to the village at night. A schedule will determine which of you is to stay in the antechamber of the masters suite on a given night incase Treize or Mariemaia need anything." Zechs informed the boys. "Whenever you are not needed in the great house after dusk you are free to relax and pretty much do as you please."

"Just one of us, alone in the main house with no one to look after us?" Quatre asked quietly. He never relished the time he spent sleeping on the floor outside his master's door not to mention that the night duties always left much to be desired.

"The accommodations are quite comfortable I assure you. If one of your companions would like to keep company whoever is on duty I expect that would be permitted…so long as you don't stay up talking all night because that would disturb Treize's rest. Of course we have these too—" Zechs pulled a large box off the shelf to reveal it contained a wide range of board games, cards, and dice. "I'll even loan you some of my books or writing materials and parchment…so long as you promise not to make a mess of them." the man offered.

WuFei's obsidian eyes shone at the mere mention…in other households he has been attached to he had always been forced to subdue his scholarly impulses and he's been punished severely on those few instances he had clandestinely sought access to his masters library. The offer to loan such valuable items touched him greatly.

Zechs motioned to another box containing all the items they obtained in the slaves commissary as well as the gladiator's weapons and armor "I had all your things brought here temporally till you decide where you wanted them." The soldier prince also informed his charges, "You are free to leave them here or take them as you choose. Now I'll leave you to get settled in. Feel free to arrange things as you like. It's your room to do with as you see fit." With that, he retired to his room pulling the door closed behind him.

0-0-0-0

At the end of the hall the 'slave quarters' took up the entire rest of the wing. There were eight beds set in two staggered lines along the walls. Each bed was full sized and the ropes supporting the padded mattresses were tight and well maintained. None of the blankets or pillows seemed the least bit old or worn.

Duo, who was accustomed to sleeping in all manner of unconventional situations, found the beds exquisite in the extreme and systematically worked his way down the line, flopping down on each one, bouncing a bit and wriggling to 'break it in' for the others…whether he wanted him to or not. Quatre could not help but compare the braided boy to a puppy, bright eyes and curious about everything. He could be still when he was listening to what someone else had to say but it rarely lasted much longer than that.

Each Bed was grouped together with a chair, a short table with a candle flint and striking rod, as well as a trunk that closed with a lock and key where they could secure personal belongings. Folded partitions separated each unit and provided a measure of privacy. A sort sitting area consisting two couches and low metal table with a charcoal-stove mounted in the middle sat against the far wall.

The ceiling was bare, having exposed beams, but it was not too high that the room would get overly cold in winter or too low that smoke from the charcoal stove would accumulate and drive them out. In short, the room was outfitted as nicely as any of the _cubiculi_ (bedrooms) in the guest quarters.

Before they decided to get their belongings situated, WuFei brought up the topic of re-arranging the furniture.

The Atrium and gardens in the villa that were the heart of his new residence awoke memories of home in the young temple slave. WuFei almost gleefully gave into his formerly priestly tendencies insisting the others help him move everything around to "promote a more harmonious existence, by balancing positive and negative forces in their environment."

He didn't expect any of the others to understand something as profound as the principals of _Kanyu_ but the slaves had never had any kind of control over any aspects of their situation before and Duo had never had and possessions to arrange so, regardless of the reason, they accommodated this request.

Quatre was the first to suggest that the dividers should go.

"Every place I've ever served there were always walls between slaves. No one could trust anyone else. You always had to watch your back—to make sure someone wasn't trying to make you look bad in front of the master or overseer. I hate it! And I don't think master Treize or Zechs would like it very much either. Do you think maybe we could—not do that? Perhaps we can be friends?" he asked hopefully.

"One has few allies in the arena. It is natural to compete. Cooperation is less than beneficial in that environment." Heero frowned.

"But don't you see you aren't in that 'environment' any longer. Don't you want things to be different? Aren't you…Lonely?" the little blond entreated his fellow slaves.

"Hn" was the only response Heero had. He had been trained to be the ultimate warrior. His dominus never permitted him to associate with lesser fighters. Even speaking to them had often earned him a beating. For years he worked alone, he trained alone. He didn't know how to begin to…be…friends.

"Lonely." Trowa said in a quiet echo, unlike Heero, He had a friend in the Circus Maximus. He had had the animals to keep him company and Catherine had gone so far as to call him 'brother'. The green-eyed boy would miss them all terribly, especially at night. He hadn't thought what he would do if no one was there to keep the nightmares away. "The walls go." The taciturn youth seconded Quatre's request.

Duo had lost everyone that had ever meant anything to him. He didn't have the heart to replace them. Heero was safe…he didn't WANT to be friends. Duo was by nature a social animal. He couldn't let the others get close but he didn't want to alienate the other boys either. And there was one other very good reason to agree to Quatre's request. "You all know how I feel when I get boxed in—S' not good for morale. Not good at all." He shook his head. "I agree with Quat-boy."

"All right then." WuFei took charge again, rubbing his hands together in anticipation. "We use the partitions to divide the room in half. Two partitions come out from the walls with a larger one on the center—between the three we leave a space for doorways in and out.

The far end will be for sleeping. I suggest putting two beds against the back wall and two against the side wall. I don't mind having my bed in the middle against the center partition. In my land we frequently use parchment dividers to separate rooms and I am accustomed to it. We can up-end the three spare trunks in the center of the sleeping chamber. Facing outward they can still be used for general storage but if we put some of the chairs around it then it becomes a discussion table."

This end, closest to the store room, will be for relaxing. Perhaps M'lord Zechs may wish to join us from time to time. If he is willing to loan his books I don't see why we shouldn't extend him the courtesy of our sitting room. We can bring the couches over to this side and arrange the extra tables and beds on this side either in one big circle or two smaller ones. I think the stove should be as central as possible so the warm air will flow between the two sections."

The obsidian-eyed scholar relished the opportunity to exercise his analytical mind. When faced with a rectangle room it was natural to break it into squares—squares being more perfect than rectangles. The beds and couches were rectangles too, but arranging them in circles within each square would again achieve harmony. Heat from the stove would follow the principals of "Qi" (flow of energy) and should of course be central to ones domicile. Placing a square table with a candle at each of the four corners would provide enough ambient illumination and keep negative energy from collecting in dead space.

Two sources of heat might be preferable one central to each room, and he would like tapestries, wind-chimes and various other articles to decorate the space. In time he could use the parchment Zechs promised to practice his calligraphy and make some decent wall hangings. One must work with what one is given. That was only prudent. Wufei smiled to himself realizing, that sentiment could just as easily apply to these four with which he would be sharing the accommodations. Yes, one must work with what one has.

Though the Asian Scholar didn't bother with explaining the technical aspects of why he arranged things as he did, no one objected to the plan. In fact there was surprisingly little conversation as they fell to pushing and pulling the heavy wood framed furniture into the plan he described.

Sometimes the movement would cause the bed legs to vibrate and screech across the tile floor. Duo found this noise fascinating and proceeded to mimic it…or any other random noises that struck his fancy. When he was pulling, the braided boy pretended he was a giant bull bellowing loudly as he encouraged his 'wagon' to "MOOOOVE!" In his vivid mind he was a charioteer like Master Treize, as smaller chairs were war chariots. Duo tried to run down WuFei—twice—and that earned the urchin a stern lecture from the other boy; though the reprimand didn't seem to faze him a bit, it was more fun to fluster the stern youth.

Quatre was the only one that actively initiated conversation. The little blond seemed to view his companions as puzzles waiting to be solved. "So Trowa," he began when he and the other boy were working together to shift one of the spare beds from one side of the room to another. "You studied in two different gladiator schools. That must have been a lot of hard work and a lot of years of training. Were you born a slave or just taken in as a boy?"

"I'm not sure." The green-eyed boy replied. The truth was he didn't remember anything before he was ten or twelve years old. Catherine said memory loss was sometimes a result of illness or injury. Either seemed a plausible explanation as to why he had no memory of his child hood or any life outside the arena. No family…no home; Just masters, trainers, guards, opponents… the animals and Cathy—made up the sum total of his life up to this point. It was sad really.

"How about you Heero," The little blond tried again while he was trying to catch his breath. "Where are you from? How did you come to the arena?"

"My first Dominus was a trainer named Odin Lowe. He bought me from pirates. Chang would know more about where I'm from than I do." Heero answered.

"Really…Pirates? How exciting!" Quatre's sapphire-blue eyes sparkled.

"Not a life you would want." Heero shrugged as he shoved one of the heavy couches across the floor from one side of the room to the other, without any help from anyone.

"Pirates have plagued my people since time began." WuFei said in a superior tone. "The Empire of Chang'an is rich and our treasures are the finest the world has ever seen. Heero is a native of Tsukushi, a poor island that lies in the seas off Lo-lang; the people are fierce warriors that have resisted various attempts to civilize them.

The adults tattoo a red stripe across their faces." WuFei drew two fingers horizontally across his eyes to illustrate. "They live in mud huts, farm and hunt fish with spears. I can't imagine they would have anything worth stealing. Even the iron spear-points they use were given to them by my people in trade for rice. "Perhaps the Pirates were only using the island to re-supply."

Heero tried to remember any of the things Chang said about his far away homeland but to no avail. Nothing triggered any sense of recollection what so ever. The boy could have said Heero's parents had wings on their shoulders and lived among the clouds and Heero would not have been able to claim he was lying. "The pirates took me from the storm. I don't really remember anything before that. I must have been very young." Heero arched his back and systematically cracked the joints of his neck.

"Don't do that!" WuFei shivered at the disgusting habit.

Finally the alterations to the room's décor were complete. When the boys finally sat back surveying what they had done it was with a sense of accomplishment and pride. All agreed it seemed less regimented while still protective. Duo declared it was 'cozy' while Heero liked it specifically because it was 'generally easy to navigate in the dark.'

With all the heavy labor done it was just a matter of deciding who would sleep where and retrieving various affects and supplies from the store room. Quatre bed was on the side wall opposite Duo's. The warriors chose the beds which butted up against the back wall. And WuFei's, of course, was front and center.

When they were finally finished Heero suggested, 'To the Baths?' he expected Trowa, for one, to jump at the chance. Every gladiator Heero had ever known spent as much time in the communal baths as they were allowed. Nothing felt better than lounging in warm water, breathing in steam, and having sore muscles massaged.

But Trowa declined. "I want to see the menagerie" The green-eyed youth explained, "I'll likely be expected to keep the animals so I had best get to know them, Take Duo."

"Duo?" Heero frowned not sure if he liked the idea of taking someone as…energetic, as the urchin clearly was, to the baths.

WuFei interpreted the single word query as an opportunity to remind the gladiator "He's baka you tried to strangle." Pointing to the young man who knelt on his bed with his face pressed against the metal lattice of the window like an eager puppy sniffing the breeze.

"He's likely never been to the baths." Trowa explained "And someone has got to look after that burn on his neck it isn't serious enough to disturb the doctor but it should be looked after. Who can tend burns better than one of us?"

"Hn." Heero strode casually over to the window grabbed the chestnut haired boy by the braid and led him from the room.

Trowa caught Quatre's sapphire eyes; silently inquiring if the smaller boy wanted to see the animals too. But after all the physical exertion the blond boy decided his bed was looking mighty inviting. "I think I'll take a nap." He yawned and putting action to word curled cat-like in the center of his mattress hugging the pillow. WuFei likewise declared his intention to spend some time in the garden. Trowa nodded and took his leave of the other boys.

The truth was WuFei had had found it difficult to meditate with those dratted bells on his ankle now, not only was he free of them, he had access to the perfect place to quiet his mind. On his way out the Asian youth took the time to knock gently on Zech's door.

"Come." The soldier called. WuFei found the blond man half curled up on his bed reading. "Can I help you?" He asked.

"I expect you heard us moving things around. I just wanted you to know we were finished. I know you are free to come and go where ever you wish…whenever you wish…but I still wanted to…offer you…the hospitality of our sitting room—Treize as well if he is so inclined. We appreciate all you are doing for us and if at any time you wish to join us…socially…you may. That is all." WuFei ducked out of the room and hastily fled to the garden. He had not given the other man an opportunity to respond which was probably a good thing as the prince was stunned speechless.

-------

Section Twelve Notes

Slave Quarters: Although slaves had access to the entire household and were seen regularly by guests certain areas of the house were hidden from general view. In the richest houses, servile areas were reserved strictly for low status activities, such as cooking and washing. These areas were usually only accessible down long, narrow corridors.

There is some evidence that in some homes slaves were expected to sleep in hallways outside their master's door but in other cases personal quarters were provided. Access to the slave's quarters' was hidden from visitors. In more modest houses they may have inhabited the upper floor of the house, which would have achieved the level of invisibility that the master desired. However, just because the slaves' quarters were off-limits to guests did not necessarily mean that they were shabby or unsanitary.

Pliny describes his slaves' quarters in the following manner:

"the rest of this wing is reserved for the use of my slaves and freedmen, but most of the rooms are elegant enough to house guests…at the end of the terrace is a suite of rooms. When I am there I feel that I have got away from the rest of the house…for in this way I don't disturb my slaves' enjoyment and they don't interrupt my work."

A lavatory yes, they did have indoor toilets in ancient Rome. The main restrooms were on the ground floor normally situated near the kitchens as that was where the easiest source of water was located. There were also public restrooms with running water to carry away waste attached to Roman baths. What I am describing in this case more closely resembles what was, during medieval times called a 'garderobe.' It was essentially a closet with a conveniently open seat above a shoot leading to a cesspit.

It would probably be more historically accurate to have a chamber pot in place of the shoot which would then necessitate the occupant emptying said 'thunder mug' out the window. This seems quite disgusting to us today but it was common practice until relatively recent times.

Juvenal (55–127 AD) complained "there is death from every window as you pass along at night…look at the height of that towering roof from which a pot cracks my head whenever some broken leaking vessel is pitched out the window 'rather that' you pray in terror than just have them empty their slop pails over you." – I shudder to think of Poor Duo sleeping in those streets.--

The Practice of Kanyu is more commonly known today as Feng Shui. It began in the West Han dynasty around the third century BC. This view ascertains that the earth is a living thing and has life and energy. The energy or 'chi' of a site depends on its topography and its physical surrounding. A site with revitalizing energy is healthy and a site with bad energy was damaging to those who lived on it. Ever since then it has been incorporated into traditional Chinese architecture and has been followed by the rich and poor alike. I am not particularly knowledgeable in this area if you are, and feel the need to correct the room layout, feel free to comment or PM me and I will gladly fix it.

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	13. In Hot Water

Section Thirteen: In Hot Water

"Oi that hurts!" Duo protested ineffectually as the scruffy-hared gladiator lead him from the slaves' dormitory and down the stairs by his braided tail. Finally the flailing urchin grabbed a hold of the thin cable lacing across the other boy's back. "Whoa boy," Duo called as if he were reigning in a horse. The urchin had been expecting to say 'See, how do you like it!" but the look in those Prussian blue eyes made the words wither on his lips. Zechs had been right, gladiators were trained not to strain against the chain and a simple downward tug brought the young killer abruptly to his knees, his mouth open in a silent gasp.

"I-I-I'm sorry." The urchin faltered. "I just didn't want to get dragged about like some pet. You might be used to having a leash, I am not. Where did you want me to go?" Duo asked gently, as if he were speaking to a much younger child—or a skittish beast.

"Bath house," Heero grunted as Duo helped him once more to his feet. The Scissori had never even considered that the other youth's hair could have any other function but as a means to lead him about, honestly he was a bit chagrinned to learn other wise.

"All right," Duo said maintaining his soothing tone. "I usually did my washing in the public fountain at night but I've heard baths are nice. If you are willing to show me what to do we can go. But next time just ask first, All right?"

"Understood." Heero said placing his fist over his heart and offering the boy a curt nod by way of apology. The first time Odin had taken him to the baths he had fought the man tooth and nail. His trainer kept a fistful of his hair the entire time to keep him from going under the water as he scrubbed. It had taken time before Heero realized spending time in the baths was a privilege not a punishment. He assumed strange violet-eyed boy would react as he had and treated him accordingly. He had been wrong.

The public baths in the city were comparatively inexpensive but still more than an urchin could afford. Solo had heard of a boy who had been mistaken for a servant and managed to sneak in once. The elder boy had been so fascinated by the things he had heard that he and Duo had tried to examine them in great detail…or as much as you could from the outside. The young urchins scampered across, around, and through the intricate networks of aqueducts and viaducts that brought water between from the baths and the river. They traced the lead pipes along various sections of the city and discovered how living water was brought to the many houses and apartments and fountains of Rome. But neither he nor Solo had ever been able to slip past the ever vigilant guards standing sentry at the gate let alone been able to get through the bathhouse door.

Here there were no gates or guards. Heero and Duo entered the white building unchallenged. Once inside Heero had expected Duo would take time to admire the intricate decorated with stucco reliefs in the shape of flowers and seashells. Particularly fine marble carvings and mosaics decorated the entryway that lead to the semicircular barrel vault of the bathhouse _tepidarium_.

Duo ignored the finery, no sooner had his bear foot come to rest on the warmed tile floor when questions of 'How?' and 'why?' came bubbling from him. This bright eyed boy saw the baths as a technological wonder he felt compelled to unravel. There were several men milling about, staff from the village Heero guessed, but they seemed content with their own ablutions and paid no attention to the two slaves.

The gladiator obtained two bundles from a rack just inside the door. He handed one to the braided urchin and kept one for himself, unwrapping the thin fabric, revealed a pair of thick soled sandals and a bathing wrap of Egyptian linen. Duo took two towels from the rack and followed Heero's example on how to don the short cloth kilt then they deposited their outside clothing in a convenient cubbyhole and proceeded further into the bastion of water, tile and steam.

"So why is the floor so hot?" Duo asked as he fastened the ties of the thick soled sandals around his calves.

Heero was still a bit chagrinned because of his earlier mistake in manhandling Duo's braid and, in consequence, he actually took the time to answer the inquisitive boy instead of simply ignoring the uninterrupted flow of words. "The floor is raised above the ground by stone supports, the walls are hollow too. Zechs mentioned Baths need Furnaces," He explained. "The furnace heats water which pass under the floor. The hot water gives off steam which moves upwards through the walls. The heat radiates through the walls raising the temperature so bathers can be comfortable."

This actually seemed to satisfy the other Duo and he quieted for a while to consider what he had learned—Solo would have loved it. Heero was quick take advantage of the other boy's brief silence to slide onto one of the unoccupied tables in the _tepidarium_ and motioned for Duo to lay down on another so two of the master's innocuous 'staff members' could provide them a massage.

Heero groaned in pleasure as his attendant worked aromatic oils into his scarred flesh. But Duo wasn't so sure he liked the man kneading his shoulders like bread dough and it took time for him to actually relax into it. Even so, by the time the masseuse had finished working his magic the urchin was half way to dreamland. He didn't take too kindly to Heero nudging him awake.

"Meerph-wazzat-Lemmeebe!" Duo muttered incoherently and swatted in the general direction the sharp jabs had come.

"Come on." Heero repeated the instruction again…resisting the urge to take hold of that chestnut tail to get the other boy's attention. Finally he settled for threatening to do so, and that was enough to urge the other boy into action.

Heero led the way down a passage to one side of the central hall to the _calidarium_. "This is the Hot room," Heero explained. Though Duo thought that went without saying, the very air clung to him, hot and steamy. It was obviously the part of the building closest to the furnaces if he listened he could faintly hear the hiss of steam and the rhythmic song of the smith's hammer in the nearby forge.

The large sunken tub could easily accommodate between six and eight people. At present the two slaves had it all to themselves. The only other occupants were more interested in sitting on the on the marble benches against the wall and breathing in the steam. They talked in low voices but neither slave could sense any ill intent in the men.

"No wonder Zechs said he and Treize didn't mind sharing. There is plenty of room." Duo remarked as he used the carved steps get into the pool and hissed when the warm water reached up to his waist. "So you like getting Parboiled?" he asked when the stoic gladiator made the same decent with out making so much as a sound.

"It opens the pores in your skin." Heero explained, "If you get too hot you can douse your head in the _labrum_ there, it is full of cold water." Heero pointed to the waist high fountain in the shape of a fish. The young thief gladly ducked his hair in the water gushing from the fish's mouth then unbound his braid.

The young thief was glad he had 'appropriated' some of that delicious smelling oil from the other room and used it to wash his chestnut mane with unbridled delight. Heero's eyes widened at the sight of that prodigious mass covering shrouding the other boy's shoulders and chest. And the way it danced in the water reminded him of not so much of trailing tendrils of seaweed but cloud, stretched thin across the shy and burnished copper in sunset. He could perhaps begin to appreciate why the boy was fond of his "crowning glory."

After they had lounged in the warm water for a while Heero deftly climbed from the pool and anointed his arms and shoulders and back with olive oil and let Duo do the same. When they returned to the _tepidarium_ the young gladiator returned to the tables.

This time the attendant took out a crescent shaped blade and immediately Duo got nervous again. "What are you going to do with that?! H-Heero…what is he going to do? I'm not letting him got my hair! He won't, will he?"

"Relax!" The gladiator commanded, resisting the urge to call the boy an idiot instead he explained, "That is just a strigil. He is going to use it to scrape the dead skin off your chest and back then he will rub you down with lemon juice. It feels nice."

"You do it then." The urchin said, really not liking the look of that thin blade. "I can take care of myself."

"All right." Heero shrugged lying on his stomach and pillowing his head on one arm. Out of the corner of his eye he watched as Duo took sea salt from a dish on the counter and used it to briskly rub the skin of his arms and chest just as he would with a handful of sand sitting on the riverbank. It suited him well enough till some of the salt came in contact with the burn on his neck making him catch his breath sharply. "That Hurt" Duo whimpered softly.

"Should I fetch Doctor Po?" One of the attendants asked nervously. They had been cautioned that Lord Khushrenada would not be happy id any of his new slaves came to harm and the villager certainly didn't want to be blamed.

"It is just a mild burn, the master knows about it already." Heero told the man, the gladiator's intense cobalt gaze glided across about the room making a mental inventory as he sought one specific thing. Finally he saw it, among the potted plants next to the arched doorway. Heero lifted a clean strigil from the attendant's tray and broke off a thick leaf from the plant. He deftly used the dull knife to split the thick leaf lengthwise and scraped out the green pulp.

"Hay!" Duo scolded when Heero reached for his neck but his tone changed when the cooling substance made contact with his abused flesh "…that is actually feels pretty nice. What is it?"

"Aloe." The gladiator answered.

"Allow you? Shouldn't you ask that before you smear me with plant gunk?" Duo joked—that was an old one and Heero had fallen for it. The boy grinned like a maniac as he carefully re-braided his hair and tied off the end with a chord.

The other boy made a disgusted sound and rolled his eyes at the urchin. WuFei was right, he was a Baka.

Now that they had been, Duo's words "cleaned and seasoned like a fish ready for the pot." Both boys were ready for the next stage of the bath. Down the corridor on the opposite side _of the tepidarium _was the_ frigidarium _or 'cold room."

This room_ was _largerthan the_ calidarium_ and had, not one but, two pools. The smaller pool contained tepid water, likely a mix of fresh water and run of from the Hot bath, similarly there were steps and platform like seats where they could sit and soak. Duo could easily picture their ginger-haired master lounging submerged up to the neck whiling away the hours in quiet conversation with Zechs.

The big pool was huge and full of cold water. Two staff-men in their early to mid twenties swam laps. Watching them, Duo decided that Zechs hadn't specifically said "no horseplay, water tag or splash-fights." What he said was not to "leave the baths like they had been hit by a rainstorm." To him, that sounded like some kind of challenge provided they cleaned up afterwards.

Zechs had of course insinuated that such weren't appropriate if the big blond or their noble master were of a mind to relax…but Zechs had not actually covered the instance where two men weren't of a mind to relax. Duo wondered just how much it would take to convince the 'sea king' to indulge in childish pursuits. Treize would likely be easier to convince. He suspected their esteemed master had one serious sense of humor. He'd have to; why else would he pay good money for an untrained slave with a penchant for getting himself in sticky situations?

Duo smiled at the thought, then at his stoic gladiator companion. If he could convince the stormy-eyed fighter to play, there was no limit to his persuasive powers…Zechs and Treize should be simple after that…and oh what fun! With a sly smile Duo inquired, "So how often do we get to do this, and how long are we allowed to stay?"

Heero recognized the gleam in the other boy's eyes and smirked right back at him…this was going to be an interesting afternoon for them both—that is if he could keep from drowning the braided boy long enough to enjoy it.

Section Thirteen notes:

The baths: We think of bathing as a very private activity conducted in the home, but in Rome was a communal activity in public facility. Spending time in the baths was part of the daily regimen for men of all classes, and time was set aside for women as well. The baths and the overall atmosphere resembled modern spas, health clubs or community centers. The baths were 'the place' for socializing. Just like today there was 'locker-room talk' people indulged in idle gossip and engaged in in-depth discussions about business and politics. There was even a cultural and intellectual side to the baths since the truly grand establishments, _the thermae,_ incorporated libraries, lecture halls, colonnades, and promenades like the Greek _gymnasium._

Lemon juice us a historically accurate way to cleanse the skin. It was not initially meant as an allusion to the propensity of some writers to naturally associate 'bathing' with 'lemon.' I do see the irony. Personally though, I choose not to engage in that sort of 'research'. All the usual relationships are there; just left unstated. I'm sorry, if some of you are disappointed.

Aloe leaves People have known about the medicinal value of aloe for thousands of years. In 5,500 B.C., Egyptians used it as a laxative. Writings from 550 B.C. indicate that the plant gel was popular during that time for the treatment of skin infections. Legends assert that Cleopatra used aloe in lotions and medicines and that the armies of Alexander the Great used aloe for treating wounds. Aloe ranked among the most popular of medicines in ancient Rome and Greece.


	14. Wild Things

Section Fourteen: Wild Things

-o-o-o-o-o-

Trowa had worked with lions, elephants, bears and wolves. He had fought long horned bulls, wild boars, and even a ferrous hippopotami. There had been a cage of delicate yellow and green song birds in one of the gardens, but the young beast lord had no idea what to expect in a Roman noble's menagerie. He approached the low building with some trepidation. At the Circus Maximus, he had learned that an animal's temperament was widely affected by the manner in which it was kept. Squalid conditions produced vicious beasts.

He needn't have worried on that account.

One of the servants who had been weeding the flower garden helpfully directed him to the section of the white out building reserved for the master's menagerie. The first thing he noticed as he approached was the smell…or rather the lack thereof. In the catacombs beneath the stands of the Circus Maximus, the scent of animal musk and fear always hung heavy in the air. The closer one got to the animal cages, the worse it got. The young beast tamer had worked tirelessly to keep the animals and their pens clean, but that odor had been pervasive nonetheless.

Here there was an outdoor exercise area which would provide greater freedom for the menagerie's inhabitants than a simple cell could afford. The outdoor cage was large and well kept; there was a mound of upturned dirt, a pool with running water, a sunshade, and a large pile of fresh hay scattered about to make it easier to clean. The outside of the fence was bordered on all three sides with a prodigious rose arbor. The sharp thorns clearly were to discourage trespassers. The fourth side of the enclosure met with the building's face, and there was a low door through which animals could pass. The door was closed at present, and the yard was unoccupied.

Trowa entered the building through an arched portico and followed the narrow corridor until it opened to reveal the indoor cage area that was home to four very fine wolves: one silver-furred male, a brindled female, and two nearly full-grown pups.

The beasts did not pace back and forth in mindless agitation. The older two canines lounged on padded mattresses, the female dozing lightly. The younger males were the first to approach, tongues lolling and tails wagging in a friendly manner. These two were likely born right here and hand reared so they had no fear of man. If one didn't know better, one would assume these were no more than cosseted hunting hounds.

But Trowa was not swayed by the young ones' congenial attitude; to do so would be a breech of pack etiquette that could prove deadly. If one wanted access to the pack, one must approach the leader first and foremost, or be declared an enemy and a threat. Trowa met the silver's unyielding gaze and refused to turn away until the Chief got off his mat and came to investigate.

The male was wary at first, as any patriarch would be when confronting a stranger…especially of the two legged variety. Trowa crouched down and leaned against the bars of the cage. The beast trainer had spent countless hours watching the animals under his care at the Circus Maximus and had learned to mimic the subtle language of posture growls from his various companions in the arena and knew the messages they conveyed. _I am no threat, _he told the wolves. To add truth to his words, the youth snaked his hand through the bars without fear, allowing the elder the sniff the palm of his open hand.

The silver gave him a questioning growl, confused at the mix of diverse beast scents that clung to the boy, but after a few tentative sniffs on the wolf's part and encouraging 'woofs' from the boy, the pack leader took Trowa's wrist in his mouth. Those sharp teeth and strong jaws could crack bones as if they were dry twigs, but the slave boy did not flinch. He could easily read the beast's posture and bearing.

Trowa knew this was as much a test as it was a a show of acceptance. Once the ritual was complete, he could scratch the younger dogs with impunity even as they attempted to lick his face through the bars. If he had approached them first, it would have aroused the senior's protective instincts. But since he had done it the correct way, the silver even leaned against the bars himself to benefit from the young beast lord's rough caress.

Trowa's skilled hands read the animal's condition with each subtle touch. They were well fed and healthy. Their ears were clean and he could not even detect the pattern of ribs beneath those full and lush coats. Each wore a collar, but then again…so did Trowa. He had to be content knowing the leather was not tight; he could easily place three fingers beneath it and feel the strong chords of muscles of the neck.

"So do you approve of my pack?" Trowa half turned, surprised at the statement. He had been so occupied with the wolves he had not noticed Treize enter from further along the hall.

"It is _they_ who must approve of me," the beast lord corrected unthinkingly.

"And it seems they do." Treize smiled. "What do you think of them?"

"They are in good condition; well exercised. The yard is a good idea…but I suspect you do not keep them here always. They still run the forests and choose to return to you, do they not?" the boy answered quietly from behind the curtain of his bangs.

"My sources did not lie when they said you were the best, Trowa, boy. Brin, there, has been my companion since was a boy." He indicated the she-wolf, who woke at the sound of her name and sauntered over so Treize could scratch behind her ear.

"I found her while out riding in the west woods. She was barely more than a pup and had two arrows in her side. She wouldn't have lasted the night if I had left her alone," he explained. "What could I do but bring her home and see if I could heal her?

"Father wouldn't let me keep her in my room once she was strong again, so we expanded the aerie into a full menagerie to accommodate her. One winter, comma Argent came sniffing around and decided to court her." Treize smiled at the silver.

"I let him move in, and the cubs, Romulas and Remus, came after that. They don't get quite as much exercise now that I am master of the estate, but when I've got the time…I couldn't wish for better hunting companions. There is a reason why I chose the wolf's head as my personal crest."

"So, this was originally an aerie…for the birds in the garden?" Trowa asked truthfully. He had little experience with birds…unless it was to feed them to larger beasts…or eat them himself.

"Not exactly." The noble shrugged and invited, "Come see."

Trowa followed the man down the hall and through a door, which Treize closed securely behind him. "The song birds in the garden belonged to my mother," Treize said. "These were my father's."

The slave's eyes widened in shock when what he saw was not the pigeons and doves he expected. Instead, two glorious golden eagles rested on wooden perches. Both regarded the humans dispassionately. Treize had been feeding them when he'd heard Trowa moving about in the hall, and neither took kindly to having their meal interrupted.

The noble was well schooled in the handling of these lords of the air, and not even he would come within easy reach of those sharp talons without thick leather gloves with cuffs reaching almost to his elbow. Trowa watched with unconcealed awe as his master entered the cage with them and stretched out his hand to let the first of the pair swoop to snatch a dead mouse from his fingers. When it landed, he fed it several more.

"My father's father was an augur for the old Emperor," Treize explained, holding his wrist high. The other bird launched itself from its perch to alight on the offered wrist so he too could receive his rodent treats. "He spent most of his life observing birds of prey and trying to find meaning in the patterns of their flight. My father used that knowledge to train them to hunt for him. He then impressed that knowledge on me when I was still a boy." Treize's brilliant blue eyes darkened at the memory and he sent the bird back to its perch with a wordless command. "As you can see, I am well able to take care of Wind and Fire, here. I need your help with my newest acquisition. Come, I'll introduce you." The ginger haired man exited the cage, locking it behind him.

At the end of the hall was another door. This looked newer that the rest. Treize let the slave go first and followed close behind him. Trowa was surprised to come face to face with a pair of startling blue eyes that nearly took his breath away. Those eyes belonged to a cat perched on a wooden platform near the door. Apparently, the beast liked to climb, as there were similar ramps and platforms on the walls all around the room. On close examination, even a novice could note this was no ordinary kitten. The black coat was shot through with darker spots and rosettes. The green eyed Venatori swallowed convulsively.

"Where did you manage to get a black leopard cub?" Trowa asked in awe.

"This one was a gift for the Emperor... Nanashi managed to escape the enclosure in his majesty's garden twice. I was told it came from the dense forest region in the east that I hope WuFei may know more about. Do you think you can train him?"

"For the Emperor?" Trowa asked.

"No, he is mine. Octavian lost him in a wage over a game of _astragalismos _to Senator Septiem. When the man tried to collect, he had some difficulties. I assure you, those claws are already wicked sharp. See the marks he has left on the poles. In any case, I managed to persuade the senator the cub was too small to make an impressive rug.

"I'm afraid I've been keeping company with Brin and the others so long that I've never actually seen myself as much of a cat person, but I couldn't very well see him killed either. I have a harness for him, but I haven't managed to get him into it as of yet. I hope you will have more luck," Treize finished.

Catherine, Trowa's dear friend and fellow performer in the Circus Maximus, told him the best way to train the big cats was to get them when they were small. But the only ones the hunters ever brought to the ring were adults, half starved and tormented til they were maddened enough to attack anyone who came close. He had managed to befriend a few, but it was no easy task to gain their respect. Now, he would get the chance to see if Catherine had been correct. He also could not help feeling privileged that he would be able to watch Nanashi grow.

Trowa surveyed the inquisitive beast carefully before finally nodding. "I can train him."

Section Fourteen Notes:

All hail Blindy who has agreed to beta for me! And ye shall be named the scourge of implausible punctuation!! Hip…hip...huzzah!

Wolves: There is a complex ranking system within a wolf pack. For example, at the top of the rankings, there is an alpha male and female to which all other male and female wolves must submit. When wolves encounter each other, the higher rank will show their dominance and power by aggressive moves and body language. This is why Trowa would not break eye contact with Argent til he had been accepted as a member of the pack. I have a friend who had a husky/wolf crossbreed as a pet, and closing its teeth around your wrist was how it showed that it accepted you.

Wolves in captivity need to be socialized and trained. The best method is hand rearing pups so they do not fear humans. Genetically speaking, there is no difference between a wolf and a dog. One would think that would make them simple to train…they aren't. Even if well cared for, wolves do not act as dogs do; they howl, they chew through almost anything, they excavate 10-foot pits in the back yard, and they cannot be housetrained. It is no wonder Treize wasn't allowed to keep Brin in his bedroom. Building the menagerie was likely a matter of survival.

Wolves and Rome: According to the Roman legend, Romulus his twin brother Remus were thrown into a river as infants by their jealous uncle. He feared his sister's sons because they had been fathered by Ares, the god of War. Prophecy said they would grow up and kill him. The wolf is sacred to Mars, so it was not unsurprising that a she-wolf took notice of the god's sons, rearing them even feeding them with her milk. Later, the twins where found by the king's shepherd. He took them home to his wife and the two adopted them. When they became men, they fulfilled the prophesy of killing their uncle and built the city of Rome in the place where they lived with their wolf mother.

The augur held a rather paradoxical status in Roman life, especially Roman political life. An augur was regarded (initially in the early era of Roman kings) as holding a "respectable" office, but, as Roman times marched into the "enlightened" golden Augustan era, the augur became something of a "quiet joke" among the educated. The augures (plural) were members of a Roman "priestly" upper class, charged with interpreting divine purpose or plan from the songs and flight patterns of birds. The ceremony was known as the taking of the "auspices". This duty pre-empted Roman political and military exploits.

Taming big cats- Pliny the Elder, 23-79 AD recalls a story about a distressed panther that beckoned a man, by rolling over on her back, to rescue her cubs from a pit. The panther then guided the man to the litter by softly touching his clothes, and apparently expressed gratitude when they were returned safely. Such feline affection is also visible in Roman art.

Pliny also tells us about Hanno, one of the most distinguished of the Carthaginians, was the first human being who dared to handle a lion and exhibit it as tamed, and that this supplied a reason for his impeachment, because it was felt that a man of such an artful character might persuade the public to anything, and that their liberty was ill-entrusted to one whom even ferocity had so completely submitted.

Jaguars and leopards have attitudes similar to domestic felines. They are self-sufficient and aloof with lightning reflexes, while still being very tactile and responsive. They can get excited by scents and physical touch. Full grown, they can get so excited they become dangerous; they don't know their own strength and can do serious damage without meaning to.

A trainer working with big cats must learn to "read" an animal's behavior and anticipate what they will do. They must learn how their cat thinks, feels, and responds. Captive wild or exotic animals are highly intelligent creatures. No matter how tame they appear, big cats are still wild animals and react that way. Animal trainer Diana Guerrero describes creatures like my little Nanashi as fast and intense. We admire them for their beauty and grace. I figure that makes this the perfect challenge for our Trowa.

The Wager: With the "astragali", gamblers played the "astragalimos", a game quite similar to the dices. Four knuckle bones were used. Two of the six sides of them, the sides number two and five, were not counted because they were round. The other four had some images depicted on them.

Augustus was very fond of gaming. In a letter written by Augustus to his daughter, Iulia, the emperor says: "I sent you two hundred and fifty "denarii", just as many as I gave to each of my guests, so that if they wanted it, they could play at "astragalismos" or at odds and ends during the dinner."

In a letter to Tiberius, he recounts: "I have lost twenty thousand sextertia, but only because as usual I have been generous. If, as a matter of fact, I had asked back all the stakes I had remitted, and if I had kept for me all the money I gave as gifts to others, I would have won fifty thousand sestertia. But I like to do so. My generosity will send me directly in paradise."


	15. Well Played

Section Fifteen: Well Played Indeed

The sun was shrinking in the west, and most of the afternoon had fled. Back in the slave barracks, a velvety voice invaded Quatre's dreams "Wake, little cousin," it said, banishing the shifting sands before the ground could fall away, leaving him to the grasping hands of his captors.

"W-ha-t?" The boy yawned sleepily, stiffened self-consciously and pulled his knees up to his chest. His eyes focused on the blond soldier leaning over him "I have no family." The little blonde frowned when he registered what the man had said.

"Probably for the best; I miss my own terribly," Zechs mumbled. Perhaps that was why WuFei's offer of 'hospitality' had struck him so deeply. His books hadn't been so engaging that he hadn't heard Duo's clowning or WuFei's exasperated chastisements. Quatre's laugh rang out like temple chimes, and the bumping and sliding of the furniture attested to the fact that the reticent gladiators had been just as involved as the rest. He had not expected house slaves to integrate well with those from the arena, but it seemed as if that wasn't a problem. They were working together…and truthfully, he had felt a little left out.

In the northlands, clan was all important; everyone worked closely with everyone else irrespective of their individual place in the social hierarchy. Zechs had been an _Æþeling_, and his father had been the _Gold__ġ__iefa_, but they freely associated with everyone in the clan. His father's council of _Eaxl__ġestealla_ had been comprised of bakers, brewers, potters and swineherds. Regardless of their vocation in peacetime, _everyone_ was a warrior. In the north, Chieftains chose companions by merit rather than by blood. In Rome, casts were more regimented. His own place was not easily defined, and more often than not, it made others uncomfortable around him.

Treize and Mari treated him like family, of course, but there were only two of them. He missed the camaraderie of family and clan working together as one. His father had been killed in battle, and his dear little sister could be anywhere in the vast empire. He had not seen her in, what…seven years? The realization caused his shoulders to hunch further, and a frown creased his brow.

Quatre regarded him with fear in his eyes.

"I am not going to hurt you," the northern prince promised. He knew he was physically intimidating. That had not been his intent in speaking with the boy. Zechs tried to lessen the effect by putting more distance between himself and the younger boy.

He sat hunched over, elbows leaning on his knees on the edge of the bed closest to that belonged to the blond boy. The trident leaning against the headboard identified it as belonging to Trowa. "I brought you something." The blond man set a wrapped bundle on the edge of Quatre's bed then gave the boy space to investigate it further.

Quatre shifted his weight, un-tucking his knees to sit cross-legged on the mattress. He carefully dislodged the cloth on the bundle as if whatever it contained might bite him. But when the object was finally free, his eyes lit up with joy. "A lyre!" he gasped lovingly, caressing the instrument.

"At lunch, Treize mentioned you enjoy music and are quite skilled. He was wondering if you would mind playing for us from time to time," he said by way of explanation.

Would he mind? Quatre snorted. By giving him an instrument like this, they would have had a more difficult time preventing him from playing. He cradled the small harp in his lap and carefully checked that the strings were in tune. One did not usually strum a lyre as you did a harp, but Quatre was equally skilled with both. In fact, any stringed instrument easily yielded to his command.

Zechs picked the tiny wooden plectrum that had remained in the cloth wrappings and handed it to the boy so he could play the instrument as it was meant to be played. The dulcet tones sprang to life instantly, clear and sure. It wasn't a song Zechs recognized, but that didn't matter…it was full of emotion and joy. It spoke of air and sea and sky. Treize's cousin Dorothy said the golden-boy had skill that would make Orpheus himself sit up and take notice, and hearing him, Zechs could well believe it.

That instrument was a very special treasure, and giving it had not been an easy decision for Treize because it had belonged to his mother. No one had played it since Lady Khushrenada had passed, but the master finally had to admit that it had been silent too long.

"I play the harp as well…and Trowa told me his sister Catharine taught him to play the flute and panpipes. Well, she isn't really his sister--at least I don't think she is. She is a performer in the Circus Maximus. But, perhaps if Trowa had an instrument too, we could play together. I think he would like that."

"Come with me to the music room and we'll see what we can find for him." Zechs smiled.

"There is a music room?" Quatre tilted his head in curiosity. That hadn't been part of the tour Zechs had given them.

"None but Treize has been in there since his mother passed away. I didn't feel I had the right to violate that sanctuary. He has since informed me I was wrong. Treize doesn't want his daughter growing up in a home without music…and it looks like you are to be the one to bring it back."

Quatre swallowed hard; he had performed many times for his mistresses and her guests, but it had just been for after dinner entertainment. He had never imagined that doing something he loved could have such a profound impact. The young blond wasn't sure he was up to the challenge, but he would certainly give it his best shot. "Do you think Miss Mariemaia would like to learn to play the harp?" he asked idly as he followed the soldier off to the promised 'music room.'

"I don't know. Mari is a strange child, largely because she was so long under the influence of her maternal grandfather. I expect you know him, Dekim Barton."

The name had such a profound effect on Quatre he nearly tripped in villa's entry way. "He's…he's…" the little blond faltered.

"Trowa's former master was the child's Uncle," Zechs provided, standing beside the startled boy.

Quatre wasn't thinking along those lines. "He's one of the Fellows of Rome that planned to have me killed. I expect he'd want all five of us dead for one reason or another."

"Why do you think that?" Zech asked, though he suspected he already knew the answer. Senator Barton often 'removed' anyone who could complicate his plans, and frequently those who had outlived their usefulness. The question was, how much did the little blond actually know?

Quatre bit his lip, picking out a complex tune on the lyre. The quiet music soothed his spirit, and he drew strength from it. In a fraction of a heartbeat, his normally timid nature vanished like the morning mist melting away before the sun. He stood straighter and met Zech's eyes unhesitatingly. The soldier was taken by surprise by the sudden transformation.

"Having read my papers, you know why I was sold," the slave said decisively. "I broke an expensive amphora of imported wine, and Master Dermail was going to have me fed to the eels, except the emperor intervened. That was the story." The boy ran his fingers through his short blond hair and shrugged his floppy bangs out of the way. "The fact is, Lady Dorothy trusted me as her cupbearer, and I wasn't about to serve tainted wine."

"How did you know the wine was tainted?" the Zechs asked quietly. The notes the boy called forth from the golden instrument sounded melancholy now, and they fell on the ear like autumn rain that makes the leaves fall from the trees to lay sodden on the ground.

"My lord," Quatre shook his head, "I could tell you the wax seal was not right for that particular vintage…I could say there was a powdery residue on one of the handles…I could say it was well within my duty to break the seal and taste it before serving. I could admit that I am a weak slave and I sometimes listened outside my master's door and overheard things. But the truth is, that day…at that time…that particular amphora…just didn't _feel_ right. So I broke it, on purpose. And _that_ is why certain senators want me dead."

The last thing the little blond expected the other man to say was, "I am not surprised."

The music stopped abruptly in a jangle of discord. "N-not surprised about what?" Quatre faltered. "T-that they want me dead or that I felt…"

Zechs frowned at the reaction and decided to take an entirely different tactic with the boy. "When I called you cousin, I meant it. You see, I know a Winner when I see one."

"I am not a barbarian," the boy said, though he couldn't help but think he sounded suspiciously like WuFei as he protested that he was not a slave when all appearance judged him otherwise.

_Mastrquatre'berbawiner..._the burble of sound that had been his name when he lay dreaming came once more to the forefront of the slaves mind. The memory shifted, and his luminous aquamarine eyes blinked furiously to hold back the tears. "I was born Master…Quatre…Rebera…Winner," he whispered, his voice catching painfully in his throat. No wonder the slavers had been beaten him so harshly. How could one learn to be human chattel when they considered the title of 'master' an integral part of their given name? "What was my family doing in the desert?" he asked softly.

"Kaserena, my Mother's sister, birthed only daughters. This did not cause her husband much grief; for as best I could tell my Uncle Scead loved them all. But Scead Winner was a druid and a seer; tradition tells us that power can only pass along the male line. He needed an heir. A traveler told him of a mysterious tribe in the desert lands who could help a woman conceive. When I was quite young, Uncle and his family set off to find if what was said of the Magunac was true—as you are here, and you have just named yourself his heir, I can only assume it was. Why should it surprise me that you also have also inherited the gift of the seer?"

Quatre rubbed his chest absently to massage away the mild pain that had suddenly sprung to life in his breast. He wondered if it was caused by the memory of watching his family killed one by one, or if it was the waking of the mage gift with in him. He bit his lip and pondered what would come next for himself and his friends. The balance of power was shifting. What could five slaves do to influence the shape of the world?

"When I said I listened at Master Dermail's door, that much is true. I know things about the Romefellows that aren't spoken of. I also listen when other people say things, and I am very good about putting the pieces together," Quatre admitted quietly, pursing his rose colored lips. Nimble fingers found the strings once more. His touch was hesitant at first, but as the complexity of the music increased, so did his confidence.

Finally he felt sure enough to continue speaking once again. This time his voice had a dreamy quality to it. Zechs recalled his uncle had the same characteristic which bespoke deep knowledge that linked heart and stars.

"Trowa said the only way Heero wouldn't fight when he entered the ring was if he was being forced to kill innocents. The Romefellows gave false wittiness against their enemies and then forced Heero to execute them. Barton's son was becoming too hard to control; I expect he didn't like what they did to Heero and he probably confronted his father and our Trowa is the only witness to his murder.

"WuFei's master traveled a great distance from the eastern emperor. If he could open diplomatic relations with the emperor and strengthen the connection between the east and west the, influence of the senators would suffer. I suspect they had the man killed. The fellows cannot risk having him identify his attackers or find his way to the Emperor.

"I like Duo, but in society's view, he is just an orphan. A no account homeless thief. But he can tell when a person lies and he doesn't know how to keep his mouth shut. I'm sure you recall gossip several weeks ago. It was said a beggar in the temple courts got into a shouting match with a certain senator. I believe the phrase bandied about was, 'I may run and hide but I never tell a lie…and you are a liar!' Is it any wonder the boy made himself a target?

"All of us were put up for sale so that we could be made to quietly disappear without the Emperor suspecting. But you already know that don't you. That is why master Treize didn't wait for the auction, isn't it? He is the leader of the _Ordo Equester. _The order was established by the fellows. The real question is, are knights this elite strong enough to oppose the Fellows of Rome?"

"What makes you think we would want to?" Zechs asked surprised. "You said yourself that you were sold because they wanted you out of the way. How do you know Treize didn't buy the five of you as a part of their plan?" Zechs asked with a severe frown.

Quatre rolled his eyes at the man. "Because, for all that you are a rough barbarian soldier…you are also a prince…and a terrible liar. I have not known Master Treize for more than the space of one day, and I can tell you for sure that he despises those like Barton, Dermail, and Tsuberoff who represented the Fellows' extreme policies. They are contrary to everything he is. They have no honor; their largess is a detriment to the empire. Treize is loyal to the emperor even if he doesn't agree with every decision the man makes. But Romefeller is…or will be his enemy, and Treize will remain a thorn in their side so long as he controls the Equestrian Order."

"That, dear Quatre, is the type of thinking that makes you worth every Denarii Treize paid for you." Zechs smiled.

Quatre opened his mouth to reply, but the larger blonde raised one hand to silence him. As the two has been speaking, they had made their way through the Villa and were now in the threshold of the vestibule. Voices from inside the room drew his attention, and it seemed the prince was just as prone to listening in doorways as his young cousin was.

What they overheard was enough of an excuse that both decided the trip to the music room could wait. Something much more interesting was about to happen and they both had to be there to watch.

Section Fifteen Notes:

Northern traditions: Again, I am relying on my knowledge of Anglo-saxon, here. An Æþeling is a noble prince. Goldġiefa is a title used to refer to a king which literally translates to "gold giver". A king's power was not measured by how much he possessed, but by how much he gave away. A rich king was generous with his people.

"Eaxlġestealla" literally means 'sholder-companions' referring to best or closest friends, someone with whom you stand shoulder to shoulder in good times or bad. They sit at your side at the table or around the fire when stories are shared, they guard your back in battle, and comfort you in times of grief. It is seen that, as close as Treize and Zechs are, when speaking about him to others, the blond still refers to him as 'Master Treize.'

The lyre is a stringed musical instrument, well-known for its use in Classical Antiquity. The lyre was ordinarily played by being strummed with a pick (plectrum) like a guitar or a zither, rather than being plucked like a harp. The fingers of the free hand silenced the unwanted strings in the chord.

A lyre has a hollow body or sound-chest (also known as soundbox or resonator). Extending from this sound-chest are two raised arms which are sometimes hollow and are curved both outward and forward. They are connected near the top by a crossbar or yoke. An additional crossbar, fixed to the sound-chest, forms the bridge which transmits the vibrations of the strings.

The deepest note was that farthest from the player's body; as the strings did not differ much in length, more weight may have been gained for the deeper notes by thicker strings, as in the violin and similar modern instruments, or they were tuned by having a slacker tension. The strings were of gut. They were stretched between the yoke and bridge, or to a tailpiece below the bridge.

Orpheus was believed to be one of the chief poets and musicians of antiquity and the inventor of the lyre. With his music and singing, he could charm wild beasts, coax the trees and rocks into dance, and even divert the course of rivers. Closely connected with religious life, Orpheus was an augur and seer. He practiced magical arts, especially astrology (he could predict the future). Sounds like the perfect patron for our 'space hearted' Quatre. Pindar describes Orpheus as the harpist and companion of Jason and the Argonauts. I will not go into the more sordid details of the ledged Orpheus as they are not directly pertinent to the type of stories I write. If I did, Dorothy's comment would mean something else entirely.

Amphora: is a type of ceramic vase with two handles and a long neck narrower than the body. They were used by the ancient Greeks and Romans as the principal means for transporting and storing grapes, olive oil, wine, oil, olives, grain, fish, and other commodities.

Kaserena and Scead Winner: cannon names Quatre's parents Quaterine and Zayeed. I would think these were the middle eastern pronunciations of Germanic original. Kaserina, is from the same root as Zechs "Merkaser" it conveys the idea of royalty and purity. Scead is Anglo-Saxon for shade, which could mean shadow or spirit and _Winn_ is A-S for war, battle or strife. _Winnan_ meant conquer or win so Winner meant then just what it does today.


	16. Life Lessons

Section Sixteen: Life Lessons

After leaving the slave barracks, WuFei moved through the garden with casual grace and a slightly uncharacteristic bounce to his step. For the first time in a while he felt good. He wasn't exactly sure what prodded him to extend hospitality to Zechs. That confused him a bit. He would sooner lose a limb than associate freely with any of his other Roman captors. Of course, he couldn't forget it had been Zechs who had stricken off the fetter on his ankle. It felt wonderful to finally be free of the bells that had heralded his every step. Now he was free to enjoy the sound of water in the small fountain and the tiny yellow and green birds that perched jewel like in their multi-tiered cage.

It was true he missed the lily pads with their yellow and white flowers and the iridescent shadows of coi gliding beneath the surface of the pool in the prayer garden belonging to the Long clan. But this was a suitable setting for meditation. He plopped down beneath a flowering orange tree and pulled his long legs crossed into the half-lotus position he found most comfortable for Ching Tso.

With practiced ease, he stilled his body, calmed his mind, and regulated each breath. With this settled mind, he no longer heard the water or the birds, no longer registered the loneliness that had been gnawing at the core of his being for so long. His senses were shut and his eyelids lowered. His full attention was focused within as he visualized the pocket of energy within him. The point of golden light that was the gift of Shenlong shone clear and bright. Despite all the abuse and degradation of having to submit to barbarian hands, the dragon's fire he held within still burned immaculately pure. "I am no slave," he whispered quietly.

"You look like a frog." A quiet voice asked, "Why are you sitting there like that?"

—and his concentration fled like leaves before a gale. "What?" WuFei exclaimed. The possibility of meeting the child Mariemaia in this place had slipped his mind completely.

Her ice blue eyes regarded him unflinchingly. "Sitting like that, thinking deep thoughts, you look like a frog sunning himself on a rock," she repeated.

"I was not aware of it. I have had little time to consort with amphibians."

"Am-fib-i-what?" she scowled sweetly.

"Frogs," he clarified.

She stuck her pert little nose in the air and announced, "Then why didn't you just say that?" Tilting her head slightly-sidewise, she examined him more carefully. "You've got cat-eyes too…are you a Fae?"

"My name is WuFei," he told her.

"You don't have pointed ears," she said frowning. "Xexie told me Elves are supposed to have pointed ears."

"I have never heard of Elves nor do I know anyone called Xexie." He was finding this conversation most confusing.

"Oh, you know X, he was showing you around earlier…big soldier type, long blond hair," she said off-handedly.

"Oh, M'lord Zechs." He nodded, finally understanding.

"That is what papa calls him, but he is just X to me. He likes to tell me stories of his people. They live very far away and are very different from people you meet everyday."

"I suppose you could say the same about my own people. While he comes from the distant north, I am from Chang'an in the east," he explained.

"You are a _Seres_ then, one of the silk people?" she asked. "My father likes collecting things from the edges of the empire. Though I expect he sees you as something more than an addition to his collection. Grandfather never understood that about him. Papa says living things are not to be collected…though he would like to get some silk trees for our garden."

"Silk doesn't come from trees, little one, it comes from silkworms that live in the trees, mulberry usually," he told her.

"Really?" Her eyes grew wide. "Bugs?"

"Insects are amazing creatures. We can learn much from observation of nature." WuFei nodded, and all thought of meditation vanished in the heat of her open curiosity.

WuFei intoned quietly, "There is balance to all things. If you can see the balance, the mysteries of life are laid bare before you."

"Before me?" she asked raising an eyebrow critically.

"You are a child." The young man shrugged dismissively. "Only a scholar can learn the mysteries of the ages."

"Is that what they teach children where you are from?" she smirked.

"In my country, if you were not a weak Onna, you would be taught the Six Arts: Music, Archery, Chairot-Riding, History, Rites, and Mathematics. Next, you would learn the Four Books and The Five Classics; they teach the principles of society, government, codes for personal conduct, philosophy, and life sciences. You would sit for examination and that would qualify you to fulfill your destiny in life. My destiny would have been as a scholar, I am certain of it."

"I am _not _weak! My grandfather wanted me weak, but father has taught me history and government, debate and numbers…I've been to temple and seen the rights performed, I've ridden in his chariot and Captain X made me a bow and arrow as a solstice present so I can learn that too. I don't know what an _Onna_ is, but I assure you I am not one. I can learn anything anyone is willing to teach me!"

"An _Onna_ is a Woman," WuFei stated with an air of superiority. In Chang'an, the role of the woman is to be gentle, calm, respectful, and obedient. From what he had seen of the females in the western empire, much the same things were demanded of them. Treize was an exception in permitting his women to be other than what society dictated. The voice of Master Long denounced such ideas…and WuFei had felt duty-bound to repeat them.

Secretly, though, he had reason to believe as Treize did. His mother, Meilan, had been worlds away from typical. She had been unmarried at the time of his birth, and had raised him alone. When he turned ten, it was decided he would become an _Anja _for the Long Clan. She fought tooth and nail to keep him, but one does not question the decisions of the clan elders. He wondered what had become of her after he had been taken away. "What happened to your mother little one…why aren't you with her?" he asked quietly.

"She died. She got sick and passed into the otherworld. Grandfather tried to make me into her but there is more of my father in me than grandfather could beat out. Father got angry that he would even try, so he came and took me away. Just what are you going to do about it?" she demanded, crossing her arms across her chest.

This child possessed the same fierce spirit his own mother had – a flame that needed careful tending. If smothered it would surely die…if neglected, it would erupt into an uncontrollable conflagration then burn itself out. The war goddess knew he loved a challenge! WuFei smiled and said, "Perhaps not All Onna's are weak. But have you the determination to succeed in your studies?"

"I can do anything I set my mind to." she told him firmly.

"What if it means doing something you are not particularly fond of?" he prodded, "Like math perhaps."

She frowned momentarily in speculation. "Then you weigh the gains against the cost and see how they balance. That is only prudent."

WuFei smiled. Yes, he was going to like this child.

From there their discussion turned to other things. Neither was aware that they were being observed.

0-0-0-0-0-0

Master Treize happened upon WuFei and Mariemaia in the garden…and he was not exactly sure what he thought seeing the exotic young man in such close association with his little daughter. On the one hand, he was glad WuFei seemed to be settling in.

On the other hand, Mariemaia had only been living at the villa a matter of months; prior to that she had been under her grandfather's often heavy-handed influence. Now that Treize had claimed the girl, he was somewhat reluctant to share her.

Truthfully, there had been times seeing her with Zechs made him jealous, and the barbarian prince was his best friend and the closest thing he had to a brother. In that instance, he had learned to temper the emotion, but it was there none the less. 'Weigh the cost against the gain and see how they balance.' That was what his girl had said. How could he, in good conscience, do any less? He cleared his throat.

WuFei looked up seeing his master standing in the arched doorway with an unreadable expression on his fine features. Then he noticed the man was holding a drawn sword. "You challenged me, I believe."

"So I did." Wufei nodded; he had been kneeling in the grass with on fluid movement he rocked back on his heels and stood. "Mistress." He graced the child with a polite bow and went to her father's side. Together they entered the vestibule where the weapons were displayed.

"Do you see any blade that will suit you?" Treize asked, carefully unwinding the folds of his toga and placing it on the pedestal with his laurels. From behind it he took a molded breastplate, similar to the one Zechs had worn, save that it had been painted white as a symbol of his rank as a Tribune and Magnus of the Ordo Equester. Treize donned the breastplate with practiced ease and strapped bracers of leather and metal to his forearms as he readied himself for battle.

WuFei was impressed that his new master thought the precaution was necessary. Many even in Chang'an saw him as little more than a boy before they had cause to learn of his skill in arms first hand. Here in Rome he had been beaten if he so much as looked at an edged weapon. Treize took nothing at face value. It was as Zechs had said. If someone claimed they could do something, then Treize would let them prove themselves before passing judgment.

The Dragon of the long clan would prove himself – Shenlong and Nataku demanded it. With a practiced eye, the young man studied the displays…he had been reluctant to do so earlier when Heero and Trowa were present. He hadn't wanted them to see his interest.

But now, he could do more than admire the fine Taijiquan Saber from a distance. He gently caressed the curved handle and ran his finger along the blade all the way to its enlarged head. He deftly took it from its display stand to find that it fit like a natural extension of his arm. "Yes," he hissed softly, a twist of a smile creeping across his thin lips.

"Fine. I only intend to fight to first blood, but I would just as soon not have either of us getting overzealous. Would you like any sort of armour?" Treize asked.

Master Ron Shirin had never permitted him armor since it was exclusively for noblemen. His father had been noble, or so it was said, but WuFei had never known the man. In any case, most of the armor he had seen in Chang'an was highly elaborate and decorated, not to mention very heavy. In fighting, WuFei relied on agility, and anything that would restrict his movement would be a detriment. "I am content," he told his master firmly.

"Then let us head to the practice ground. Would you like me to send for the others so they can observe the match?" Treize had noticed Zechs and young Quatre standing in the hall, but the other slave clearly had not.

"The fight is between you and I; I do not perform for spectators," the youth snorted.

Treize suspected the boy's declaration was not enough to prevent Zechs at least from coming to watch. Zechs had not agreed with his decision to accept the boy's challenge. But it was a matter of honor. Besides, Treize could not help but like the officious youth. He found himself chuckling as they headed to the gymnasium.

Section Notes

Ching Tso is the Chinese term for meditation. It means Quiet-sitting. Again, this is something I know very little about, so if I have got it wrong, tell me. According to my research, Ching Tso is the Taoist practice of finding the unity of body, breath, and spirit. Most writers choose to depict WuFei engaged in the active meditation of Tai Chi. Both forms are equally ancient and would have been known and practiced in China during this period. More on Tai Chi later.

Silk Worms: Chinese legends say that in about 2640 B.C. the Empress saw a silkworm cocoon accidentally fall into her tea. She watched the thread unravel in the warm liquid. She had discovered silk. But for thousands of years, the Chinese people kept the work of silkworms a secret under penalty of death. That WuFei would tell that secret is a sign that he realizes he will never see his homeland again.

The first silk products to reach Rome after 50 B.C. were worth their weight in gold. The Chinese, of course, kept the secret of the silkworm and controlled silk production. They were pleased that the Romans thought that silk grew on trees.

It was not until about 550 A.D. that two Christian monks were sent to China to discover the age-old secret of silk production. They returned to Constantinople two years later with silkworm eggs and mulberry tree seeds hidden in hollowed out canes, and from there, silk production spread throughout Europe.

Formal Education in China can be traced back at least as far as the 16th century B.C. later Shang Dynasty (1523-1027 B.C.) Throughout this period, education was the privilege of the elite few. Public education, for the most part, existed for no other purpose than to produce government officials.

As stated, in ancient China the curriculum centered on the so-called "Six Arts" The teachings of the Tao and Confucius were integrated between 551-479 B.C.The Four Books were the Great Learning, the Doctrine of the Mean, the Analects of Confucius, and the Mencius.

The Five Classics were the Classic of Changes, Classic of Poetry, Classic of Rites, Classic of History, and Spring and Autumn Annals.

In both the Eastern and Western empires; it was illegal for slaves to marry. They were not to bear children without their masters approval and consent. Those children did not belong to the parents but to the master and a family could be split up by the master's whim. For this reason I chose to make Meilan WuFei's mother and not his wife.

Being illegitimate did not necessarily bar one from holding public office. WuFei's problem was that his noble father did not recognize him. Becoming a temple slave gave him access to the education he deserved and actually offset the difficulties of his birth.


	17. Coming Together

Section Seventeen: Coming Together

Duo and Heero had finally exited the baths. The two boys had been careful to wipe up the water from the tiles in the frigidarium…so no one would slip, though getting most of the water off the ceiling required having the urchin perched on his shoulders with a cloth rapped broom. The highest part of the arch was located directly over the pool and would have to drip dry. Zechs had warned them and they had done the best they could to clean up after themselves. It would have to do. From what he had seen thus far, Heero suspected whatever punishment the Zechs or Treize had in mind would not be as severe as what he was accustomed to.

Heero was smiling. He was not aware of the fact, but it was true nonetheless. Duo was overjoyed to note this was not the gladiator's usual half-twisted smirk, but a real, honest-to-goodness smile that reached all the way to those fascinating midnight blue eyes. Satisfied, Duo breathed deeply in the fresh country air. With it came the unmistakable scent of roasting meat. "That will be dinner." The urchin licked his lips. "It's not done yet, but soon."

"You should speak to the master," Heero told him. "See if the cook needs help in the kitchens. I expect you'd be happy there—you would certainly never miss a meal."

Heero was surprised to realize he honestly wanted the braided boy to be happy here. It mattered to him, and that struck the taciturn gladiator as strange, but true. Duo didn't seem to be a child of Shinigami as he claimed, though Heero still wasn't positive the braided boy was entirely mortal either…perhaps the orphan shared lineage with a dryad or sprite of some sort. Who else would know how to squirt jets of water from innocently folded hands? The youth was amazingly accurate too, he recalled.

"I suppose I would feel better knowing there is enough for everyone to eat," Duo answered thoughtfully. When he thought back over his life in the city, hunger was the one constant. The lavish day-board Treize had provided them was the first good meal he had had in a very long time "Oi Tro!" Duo called, noticing the other slave trying to coax a black furball in a leather harness and lead out of a tree.

Normally the athletic beast-tamer would have no trouble climbing up the tree, but he knew that if he let the lead go slack Nanashi would climb further up the tree or out onto thinner branches that could not support his weight.

"Need help?" Duo asked.

"Possibly." The green-eyed lad flashed him a slight smile.

"No worries." The thief shimmied up the tree as if it were the easiest thing in the world. Then he balanced on the limb and walked out to where the critter was perched.

"Careful of the claws," Trowa cautioned, though he feared to say more in case the truth of his situation sent the braided boy plummeting from the tree in panic.

"Umm humm," Duo agreed. The scent of roasting meat was much stronger up in the tree, and that was likely what had lured the little carnivore up here in the first place. "Here…kitty…kitty," Duo called taking a roll of meat he had secreted away for a mid-afternoon snack. "Good boy, nice kitty…what pretty eyes…big and round…and oh-so-blue, just like Quatre's," the braided boy remarked as the cat nibbled the meat from his fingers.

"We alley cats all think with our stomachs, don't we?" The braided boy smirked at the black cat. The thief could recall several occasions where his unbridled appetite had gotten him in some decidedly precarious situations as well. While it was occupied, he picked it up around the waist and jumped out of the tree. "No problem," he announced, handing the purring animal back into Trowa's arms. "He's a big boy isn't he? Heavy, too," Duo remarked.

"Not really; panthers can get as big as you are." Trowa smirked.

"P-p-p," Duo faltered. "Why didn't you tell me!" The braided boy glared.

Heero only smirked. "You didn't exactly give him time to say anything." Treize would not have bought an experienced animal trainer and former Retarii to housebreak a cat, not to mention Heero had faced full grown jaguars in the ring and could tell by the shape of the head and ears that this was a cub, not a cat.

"I thought you could hold the lead while I went up in the tree to get him," the soft-spoken boy admitted.

0-0-0-0

Seeing the wild cat was back in hand, Mariemaia peeped out from the ornamental bushes behind the gymnasium. "Don't just stand there! Father is sparring with Fei! We are going to miss it!" she waved them over to an arched window that opened into the practice grounds.

She needed help to scramble up into the wide ledge before the arched window, and that was just the sort of things slaves should be useful for. Heero boosted her easily, and soon the three slaves, cat and girl crowded around the opening to get a good look at the match already in progress.

WuFei's stance was rigid and balanced; his blade moved like quicksilver. Master Treize moved with the easy grace of a dancer. The noble's blade was thinner than his opponent's it lashed out with a minimum of movement, a mere flick of his wrist enacted subtle control and exacting accuracy.

The bout must have been in progress for some time, as both combatants had already stripped unnecessary clothing; tunics, breastplate, belts and bracers lay discarded to one side of the room. Their eyes locked, each measuring the other. As they circled one another in an elegant but deadly ballet, sweat glistened off bared flesh.

WuFei was slim and wiry, and he fought with knees bent; both arms were more or less at right angles to his body. Some of the scars on his back were barely healed, but they hindered his performance not at all.

Treize was not without his own scars, but they were thin and pale against his suntanned arms and chest. He was not a milkbred noble. His body was a testament to the fact that he was as much a soldier as Zechs was.

Treize was taller and having reach gave advantage, but WuFei had speed and agility on his side not to mention the blade had chosen was longer than the cavalry saber Treize favored so the two evened out.

As an officer he wasn't accustomed to fighting with a shield so he commonly used a baton or short spear in his off-hand to deflect his opponent's strikes. That gave twice the opportunity to attack as a common soldier.

But WuFei was just as likely to strike out in attack with the fist holding the blade, his off-hand, or either foot as he was to lunge with the blade. At times it seemed he possessed five limbs and could attach with any or all at once.

Treize was a quick study, however, and he abandoned his baton and was learning to turn the unarmed attacks with an openhanded slap skillfully as he encircled the youth's deadly blade with his own.

The time it took the older man to react to the unprecedented attacks was decreasing faster than the Asian had anticipated. This led WuFei to try more extreme measures to keep him off balance.

The only option Treize had was to expect the unexpected and be ready for it. The last time Treize permitted the boy a fraction of a second to recover from his acrobatic assaults, it had earned him a stinging chop to the ribs. That had been followed up with a kick to the shoulder which still stung. He did not intend to repeat that mistake.

They traded blows for several more minutes, blades ringing in concert. Both fighters were tiring now. WuFei let out a feral shout, dodging under his opponent's blade. The spry youth used the momentum of his concentrated spring to run up the wall and back flip over the noble's head to renew the attack from an entirely unexpected direction.

Treize had never seen such an acrobatic assault, but he was not caught off guard by it. Reacting on battle honed instinct he parried the blow backhanded catching WuFei off balance this time. The noble closed with a minimum of movement. His point control was excellent as he brought up his blade a hairs-breath from the Asian lad's bared throat.

If he had been fighting for the kill, he would have had the boy, but he was not. Sometimes it took more skill to restrain ones attack than to obtain a sure victory. WuFei's eyes widened in surprise and he twisted away at the last moment.

"I think perhaps he _is_ a man I could come to respect," Duo remarked quietly.

"Hn," Heero acknowledged, but his eyes were focused on WuFei as much as they were on Treize.

Then the black leopard launched itself forcefully off Trowa's shoulder and bounded through the window, jerking his leash from the boy's hand. "Nanashi! No!" Trowa called, and the distraction was just enough that the noble flicked the blade from WuFei's grasp.

"Come fetch the cat, boy, so we can finish," Treize directed, and Trowa hurried to obey, circling around the building to come in by the door. In the meantime, the master motioned for WuFei to retrieve his blade. "You were distracted – it doesn't count."

"No, I yield," Chang replied, breathing heavily. "You have faced me with honor and integrity. That was our bargain," he admitted solemnly.

"Some other time perhaps?" Treize offered with a wry smile. He had truly enjoyed the match. The eastern style was so different from what he was accustomed to that there was no way he could predict what the boy would do. His skill was a force to be reckoned with, and Treize was not too proud to admit there was much he could learn from the younger boy. Not to mention WuFei fought with such poise it was a joy to watch him.

"I thank you...Nataku thanks you." The Asian warrior bowed.

"Nataku?" Treize asked, raising one delicately forked eyebrow.

"Goddess of war, Fei's patron," Duo supplied helpfully as he clambered into the room through the window.

"She is that." WuFei's obsidian gaze softened. "But she resides in this blade as well. I felt her song in my blood as we danced. And for that I am thankful…my master." The young man bowed and presented the blade gratefully back to Treize.

"The blade is yours – you have earned it." The nobleman smiled.

"I-I couldn't" WuFei faltered, eyes wide…this was the blade of kings. He felt lucky to have been permitted its use this once. "I am unworthy."

Treize sighed. He recalled having this same discussion with his father years ago when he wanted to give a present of a pearl necklace to the slave that had practically raised him after his mother had died.

He would give the boy the same excuse he had given his father. "Honestly, it doesn't matter if you believe yourself worthy or not, WuFei. I do. I own it…I own you. In essence, giving the blade to you is no different than gifting myself. Depriving you deprives me. Take it. It pleases me to do this."

"You are too good." WuFei frowned, still reluctant to accept the blade.

Trowa entered, followed by Quatre and Zechs, who had been surreptitiously watching the fight from the secluded observation gallery above the gymnasium.

"He means it Chang," Zechs announced. "There is no arguing with him when he gets like this. I should know. Just keep the blade and be happy. Nice match by the way," the soldier congratulated the both of them.

"I'm glad neither of you are hurt," Quatre announced. His tone was mild but his eyes scolded. "WuFei you aren't an arena fighter. I shouldn't like to see you fight master again…but if you must, can you at least use blunted weapons next time?" the young blond entreated. The young blond genuinely didn't want to see his new master or his new friend harmed in any way but there was more behind his warning then just his tender heart.

Quatre had been a slave for a very long time and he knew that, all it would take was for Treize to stumble and accidentally impale himself on WuFei's blade, and by law every slave on the premises would be executed. That was a risk he wasn't willing to take. The very thought made his chest ache. He rubbed it absently before drifting off to see if Trowa needed help with the cat.

"Very well," WuFei agreed ruefully. He tried to seem indifferent to both the concern in Quatre's voice and the splendid gift his master had given. But he was still keyed up from the fight, and in that condition, the sensation of 'being cared about' was nearly intoxicating. All too quickly, appearance was forgotten. WuFei was smiling in contentment and unabashedly hugging the sheathed blade to his chest.

-o-o-o-o-

Zechs and Treize had enough sense to leave the duty of catching of the little panther cub to the professional. "You really all right?" the captain asked quietly. Although the nobles fighting style compensated well, Zech knew Treize's promising military career had ended suddenly when his horse was killed under him in a particularly nasty battle. He twisted his right knee badly in the fall and it still pained him after strenuous activity. No doubt he would be limping tomorrow.

"I'm Fine," Treize assured him, smiling at his friend's concern. "But then, you were trailing us since we left the vestibule, weren't you. I have no doubt you would have barged right in if you thought I was getting into something I couldn't finish."

"Someone has got to look after you." Zechs growled tersely but his cheeks colored, ruining the effect--He had been caught in his snooping.

Trowa marshaled Quatre and Duo to work together to regain control of the young wildcat.

The beast lord tried to get the cub's attention while either of the other two grabbed the trailing lead. Heero sat in the window prevent the creature from trying to slip out the window. WuFei took up a position leaning on the wall. His pose was nonchalant, but his purpose was clear. He was the last line of defense, a body-shield if necessary, between Mariemaia and those playful teeth and claws. WuFei wouldn't admit to such a thing, but, he rather liked the spirited girl-child. He was more than willing to fight for her if the need arose.

The girl smiled up at him, "That was a good fight. You are fun to watch Fei. You flew up the wall like magic. Are you sure you aren't an elf?"

"I am not!" He told her firmly crossing his arms.

Heero hid his smile with the back of his hand.

Quatre and Trowa finally had the wily cub cornered. It took some scurrying and cajoling…and ultimately another meat roll, Duo miraculously procured from somewhere in the folds of his tunic, to get the animal contained.

"Enough Nanashi!" Trowa scolded, catching the creature up by the scruff of the neck. The cub's teeth weren't all the way in yet, but he certainly didn't want the little cub trying to nip one of Duo's fingers along with the meat.

"Why do you call the beast Nanashi?" WuFei asked. The name struck him as odd. He recognized it as coming from the language of the Wō tribes but he couldn't recall what it meant.

"That was what the trader that brought him to the place called him, why?" Treize asked.

"Because it means 'No Name,'" Heero answered quietly. That was what you called someone with no past…and no future…that was what he had been when the Captain Jay took him from the angry waves. "It isn't a proper name," He announced.

"It is up to Trowa," Treize offered. Turning to the green eyed boy he said, "He is your responsibility. You can name him anything you like."

"I like Nanashi," Trowa said. He hadn't had a name himself until recently but it didn't bother him much. The name felt right. He held the cub in his arms and inhaled the musky scent of him.

"Actually, I like him too," Heero admitted. Climbing through the window he scratched behind the cats ears.

Section Seventeen notes

Cats in ancient Rome: Despite their less demonstrative nature, the Romans admired the cat almost as much as the Egyptians. They certainly appreciated them more than the Greeks did. For instance, Romans considered the cat to be the god of liberty Cats were also the only animal allowed in Roman temples. Both of these facts would have naturally endeared them to duo. Some Romans considered the cat a household god representing the warmth and security of the home. At Roman funerals, sacrifices were made to the cat insuring protection in the afterlife for the deceased. At Roman weddings, sacrifices were made to the cat insuring a prosperous future. Cats were often kept as mascots by the Roman army. It has been said that cats "marched with the Legions," and it's not too great a stretch to speculate that these traveling Roman Legions may have contributed greatly to the worldwide spread of domestic cats.

Taijiquan, or Tai Chi Chuan, is the oldest Taiji system in existence and the one from which all others descend. This is the style that defines WuFei's fighting technique. It literally translates as "supreme ultimate boxing" or "boundless fist", but may better translated as "great extremes boxing", with an emphasis on finding balance between two great extremes. The concept of the "supreme ultimate" is the symbol that embodies all potential things, including all possible time and space. This is seen as the perpetual cycle of yin and yang, The concept of Taiji was introduced in the Zhuang Zi (4 BC), showing its early place in Taoism. Arguably, the oldest short weapon of Taijiquan is the saber, which is usually taught after one has learned the sword form and consists of 13 postures, each consisting of several sub-postures.


	18. Fine Finish

Section Eighteen: Polished Perfectus  
(The Fine Finish)

Duo was stuffed. Dinner had been another lavish affair. It seemed their Master not only wanted them fed, but, so long as he wasn't entertaining guests, he actually wanted to share his repast with them. The Cook staff was determined to feed him like a king, and so the five slaves ate like kings as well, which explained his current state. The braided boy rubbed his belly and withdrew from the others to lounge on a mound of convenient cushions.

After the spectacular repast, Treize offered them at lunch, Duo had not really expected him to provide them with anything more to eat that day. The urchin had hoped for a cup of stew and perhaps a piece of bread before bedtime, but had hidden the meat rolls in a fold of his tunic beneath his belt just in case the man wasn't in such a generous mood.

Then his snack had reluctantly gone to Nanashi. Duo rolled his eyes at the memory; he still couldn't believe Trowa had neglected to inform him that it wasn't a cat he was literally going out on a limb for. The braided boy still recalled feeling the animal's chorded muscles beneath his fingers, and when he jumped, he noted how heavy the cat felt in his arms. Duo suspected this wasn't the usual sort of cat…but a panther…the other boy should have said something.

Trowa believed the Nanashi needed to be taught to be around humans. Taking the meat from his fingers had been a good start. However, they must never forget that, cute and cuddly as the cub was, eventually those teeth would be scythe-sharp and just as deadly. Still, Duo found he rather liked the animal. He was glad Trowa had brought the 'cat' out of his pen to relax with them after dinner.

The music room was an oasis of comfort despite being a bit musty from disuse. The walls were painted floor to ceiling with scenes of Olympus, and the décor reflected that of the distant home of the gods as well. Deep-red curtains softened the corners and gave the room an intimate feeling, and shimmering strings of glass beads captured light from the lamps and sent scintillating rainbows of color dancing against the walls and ceilings.

There was a thick rug, woven like an exotic tapestry and padded so that one could sit or recline on it without feeling dampness of the stone beneath. Not to mention that there were so many pillows and cushions lying about that Quatre remarked, "It feels a bit like performing in rajas harem."

It was easy to forget Quatre was not as innocent as he appeared. Duo didn't know how the delicate blond knew what the inside of a harem felt like, and didn't particularly want to know. As an occasional burglar, Duo had been very particular about where exactly he was breaking into and had confined his activities primarily to kitchens and storerooms.

Sure, there were likely jewels aplenty in the women's quarters; Duo considered himself a fine looking boy and if he had stumbled into the ladies boudoir they might well want to keep him. And from what he had heard, grown men could loose important parts as the price of admission to such a place. He shivered at the thought.

Quatre was lost in his music now, eyes closed as his fingers danced across the strings of the harp. Trowa stood beside the blond, his silver flute adding soaring trills and artful flourishes to the golden notes of the harp. In the streets of Rome, there were many beggars who tried to use music to loosen the purse strings, but Duo had never imagined anything this exquisite.

"My mother loved music," Treize whispered, his voice thick with emotion. He lay reclining on a couch, Mariemaia beside him. Normally the girl seemed jumpy as a young wren, surveying the world with ice blue eyes. Just now, though, she seemed unbelievably content. Her thin lips twisted in a slight smile as she lay, resting casually against her father's broad chest. He had one arm propping up his own head and the other absently caressing her short cropped hair.

"So that is what 'family' looks like," Duo whispered to himself. He and Solo had been family. Since the sickness had taken his friend away, he had not trusted anyone to touch his hair. He had forgotten how much he missed it. Someday, he promised himself, someday…perhaps.

The urchin's eyes turned inextricably to Heero. The young gladiator had taken hold of his braid twice. Once when they were still in the cells when he tried to strangle him with it, and again after he had decided to take Duo with him to the baths. Presently, the young gladiator sat cross-legged on the rug playing tug-o-war with Nanashi.

Trowa had explained that the cub needed to spend time around people. He had to have positive experiences so he would not associate humans with fear and pain. Secretly, Duo suspected Heero needed the same kind of 'training', and likely for the same reasons. Duo highly suspected that the other boy loved the baths so much because massage was the only sort of contact he had had with another person that didn't involve a beating.

WuFei was another one that, as much as he fought the notion, seemed starved for physical contact. Granted, he seemed regular cold fish at first, aloof, uptight and superior. But if you watched closely enough, you could tell that was just the face he showed the world. There was more to him than that.

When speaking about his homeland or while arranging the room, WuFei relaxed his bristling armor a bit. Sure, he still ordered the rest of them around, which was why Duo had taken such delight in frustrating the serious boy, but even while he scolded, there had been earnestness to the Asian's voice.

Duo had listened…and followed the directions WuFei had given. Granted he did things his own unique way, Duo mentally amended, but then Wuffers shouldn't be the only one to have fun. But it seemed the other boy had a vivid mental image of what the end result of their work would be, and he wanted to share that vision with the rest of them.

Duo had been surprised again as he watched the duel with Treize. He had never imagined that WuFei would be such a passionate fighter. It wasn't street fighting with that strict posture and acrobatic flips, but it in hand-to-hand fighting, Duo would give him even odds with some of the best scrappers he knew, which was saying something.

WuFei and Zechs they sat hunched over a gaming table. Shunning games of chance for those requiring strategy the tall captain was trying to teach WuFei to play Fox and Geese. The game played on a cross shaped board of thirty three points. WuFei had a single token representing the fox trying to devour the geese. Zechs marshaled fifteen geese tokens in attempt to surround the 'fox' so it couldn't move.

Duo knew play imitates life. He had seen a hungry fox use similar zig-zag movements to sneak up on its quarry and pounce. He had been harried and driven off by angry geese when trying to attempt similar tactics to keep his own belly from rumbling at night. But not everyone sees things from the same perspective. Duo wasn't quite sure how this game had evolved into an in-depth discussion on the comparative merits of 'justice' 'honor' and 'sacrifice' but that was exactly what had happened.

'Idealists.' The urchin smirked off-handedly, playing with the metal band around his neck. He had always believed words were just words…they couldn't feed you when you were alone on the streets. They couldn't save you when you were outnumbered by those bent on catching you. They were meaningless when you watched your companions fall prey to disease one by one. Life wasn't fair. It never had been. He was branded and collared for no better reason than that he didn't know who his parents were and was forced to steal to eat.

Zechs was an imperial soldier, and so was Treize for that matter. What made them so different from the soldiers that hurt him...honor, justice, idealism or was it something else? Duo frowned. Regardless, this was his life now he should try to understand what motivated them. Treize certainly wasn't like Citizen he had ever heard of.

During dinner the Master had briefly sketched out the day to day schedule and tomorrow their duties would begin. The morning was for work. WuFei and Quatre would assist Treize with his administrative duties Heero and Trowa would be working along side Zechs as security. Leaving a certain dashing young urchin to help which ever group had need of his talents.

In Treize's household afternoon was for study and surprisingly Miss Mariemaia wasn't the only one expected to learn. There would be a regular academic roundtable going on with lessons in music, dance, literature, reading, figures, hunting, tracking and various forms of combat and defense. Even Treize and Zechs expected to increase their current level of knowledge. Solo had seen he knew numbers pretty well but he was lucky if he could recognize his own name written in the sand. Heero and Trowa weren't much better. Quatre was well skilled in academics but only admitted to knowing which end of a knife was sharp. Wufei proclaimed he was well-rounded educationally but looked less than secure when hunting and tracking were listed as topics for instruction. Everyone was expected to learn … and teach…everyone else.

The evenings were for relaxing, unless there were guests in which case everyone would be helping out either in the kitchens or serving the guests. Nothing harsh, nothing unreasonable—this whole situation just seemed too good to be true. Duo had never imagined ANYONE lived like this. There was a vast gulf between citizens of Rome and everyone else in this vast empire. Slaves were the lowest of the low. True Duo had not been a slave for more than a day but the others agreed that their master's congenial attitude toward them was unprecedented to say the least. He treated them as equals.

It was said that the Emperor harbored some degree of this belief. He referred to himself as the _Princeps_ of Rome 'the first among equals.' Treize knew the emperor, if what Quatre had said about their master was true. He was one of those 'equals' Augustus was referring to. Duo wondered if this 'life' Treize offered was nothing more than an experiment to see whether the emperor's ideal was workable.

And what if it was? Treize was their master. He had bought their lives with gold and had the power of life and death over them. Even so, Duo knew how to tell if someone was genuine or not. Every instinct he had seemed to confirm the ginger-haired lord was determined to win their trust. Why? Was he trying to make them into something? Did he see generosity as a way to banish the specter of terror, torment, and shame which haunted them? What did he really want?

No matter how different their lives had been, the five boys had always been alone. It was the one thing they had in common – they had been exiled, abandoned, displaced, and forgotten. Was it destiny for their lives to converge in this way? Duo bit his lip, and his brow furrowed in thought. Suddenly, he realized the music had stopped.

He looked up to find Quatre's intent gaze focused wholly on him. The blond boy rubbed his chest as if it pained.

"Something the matter, Q-boy?" Duo asked, concerned.

The blond shrugged. "I suppose we'll just have to wait and see what tomorrow brings," he answered cryptically, and Duo got the feeling the other boy knew much more than he was saying.

0-0-The End For Now-0-0

Chapter Eighteen Note:

There are various historical evidences for strategy board games where a smaller opposing force attacks a larger defending force. It seems a fitting parallel to the boys' attacks on OZ. A gaming board of this type was discovered in Denmark from sometime before 400AD which would fit with Zechs Germanic heritage. 'Hal-Tafl' was the name of one of the oldest games of this sort it appeared in Icelandic sagas. The name means 'kings table' Fox and Geese was a mush later incarnation popular in England and Europe throughout the middle ages. I have played fox and geese and the name made me think of 'Tallgeese' so I didn't really mind the slight anachronism.

Final Authors Note:

Thanks so very much to all of you who have taken the time share your thoughts and ideas with me. I love reviews, and to those of you who are reading this after it is already complete, I hope you too would take the time to review as well. If you are logged in, I will respond just as I have all along.

If you are interested in seeing my view of the main characters in this story, check out this Photoshop image I made, entitled "Slaves of Rome" at DeviantArt . com. If the FF-filter will let me get away with posting the actual address, remove the spaces and you can find it at:

http :// windwraith. deviantart. com /art/Slaves-of-Rome-69928891

Now that I have set the stage and described how the characters fit in this setting, I would like to explore where the scenario takes me. It may take a while, as research of this caliber does not come easily, but I do not wish to abandon this storyline, so there should be more to follow.

In the meantime, I plan to be posting the next installment of my 'Makar Saga'. Check out part 1: Makar's Confession, Part 2: Too Close to Home and, keep-an-eye-out for the newest in the series 'Makar Destiny' coming soon. Thank you all for your support. You are awesome!


	19. Shadows in the Night

Authors note:

For those of you who have taken an interest in, favored or requested alerts for this story  
I heartily thank you. You have made this my most popular story this far. In appreciation of your support I give you this scene by way of introduction to the sequel which I have just begun posting. Think of it as a sort of Bridge between 'All Roads lead to Rome' and 'When in Rome be like the Romans'. It is un-beted since I originally had something else in mind but this worked out better. It is short, a teaser really, but I hope you enjoy it anyway.

---------------

Shadows in the Night

It was the darkest watch of the evening. Horse and rider were nothing but darker shadows slipping through the wood. It seemed the sullen moon was the only witness to their passing. Cloaked in shadows the young man rode astride his noble steed with confidence. In broad daylight the same could not be said. The fact was, Claudius was ugly; mis-formed from birth.

His eyes were overlarge and glassy the lids drooping to shield them. His muscles spasmed unpredictably and mouth gaped slightly. When excited or nervous the moisture from it glistened on his chin. In the daylight everyone knew him to be a simpleton, an idiot. Even the woman who birthed him declared him a monster.

For all that, he dressed well, as befit his station. For, regardless of his many infirmities, there was one at least who saw value in him. And that one, His elder brother, was one of the most important figures in Rome. True, after their father had died in battle, the emperor had compelled Uncle Tiberius' to adopt his brother Germanous into his household as a potential heir to the Imperial throne. While Claudius's fate had meant being passed off to his maternal grandmother who, in turn, left to the not so tender tutelage of an oxheard--directed to teach him discipline as he would for any of his other beasts.

Even so, his dear elder brother never forgot him. So Claudius wore tunics of the finest weave, carefully embroidered in silver and gold. The horse he rode would be quite at home in the emperor's stables, and had in fact lodged there on many occasions. And when Germanous needed a messenger of unquestioned loyalty to convey a message on extreme importance it was Himself, and no other the man turned to.

Claudius's hand caressed the small pouch secreted in the folds of his tunic to reassure himself that the rolled parchment was still there and turned his horse back onto the road. It was not far to the Kushrenada estate and with luck he would arrive with the dawn. Having his business concluded in secret. If not he would be expected to wait his turn with other petitioners as the great lord conducted daily business of his estate. The thought made him uncomfortable. But it was no terrible hardship when conducted at his brother's behest. And Treize himself never abused or disparaged him as so many other nobles had.

So lost in his reflections Poor Claudius had not noticed other shadows concealed in the night. The enemy set upon him with the alacrity of a professional and his world was eclipsed in blackness. The last thing his numbed mind registered was his body sliding from the saddle. Rough hands searched his body for that hidden missive and consciousness left him.

--------------- notes,

Claudius and Germanicus are both notable Historic figures.

The elder brother is considered one of Rome's most beloved generals. By an interesting tangle in the family tree, he was related to six Roman Emperors and indirectly to two more. His maternal grandfather was none other than Mark Antony, right hand man of both Julius and Octavian Cesar. Augustus was his three times over grandfather. First by blood. Next as noted in the text by being adopted by the emperor's step-son the future Emperor Tiberius. Germanicous became Agustus's grandson a third time by marrying the emperors granddaughter. There was no question Germinicous was to succeed to the throne.

But it didn't happen.

He died under suspicious circumstances at the age of 35 and a very bloody period in history followed. His Emperor/uncle/stepfather, Tiberius, was suspected of having him poisoned. After him Germanous's eldest son became emperor. History knows him by the name Caligula. After a very messy bout of political infighting and political intrigue most of the royal family was killed. Who was left standing at the end of it all? Brother Claudius did what his illustrious brother could not. He ascended to the throne and ruled till AD 54. It was a bloody and war torn era that likely could have been avoided if Germanous had lived. I expect you can see why I think Treize would have been drawn into situation; they were kindred spirits after all.


End file.
